There's a fancy, you see, tickling the edges of my mind. Something probably born of sleep snatched in four-hour shifts, sleep I've just stumbled out of and haven't yet cleared from my mind or my eyes..
You know those first few moments after waking, when reality seems blurred at the edges, and anything is possible? I'm clinging to one of them right now, trying to drag a half-glimpsed shadow fully into the light. It's an elusive thing.. but it's getting clearer.
...
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?
Stop running, and look. Really look. Put your back to the wall, if it makes you feel safer, if you think your nemeses are really going to catch up to you any damned second... and let the dopplered noise of your footsteps fade in your own mind. And look.
You've been running from shadows. How do I know? Because I've been there, of course. Yeah, I've run myself ragged and broken too. Keeping your eyes shut tight and hoping for the gift, the saviour, that'll swoop down and bring you through, bring you out, bring you everything you wanted in a paper cup with the lid on tight.
I know, it didn't happen for me, either.
I've been watching you forever, you know. Watching you run. Watching you cry. Seeing you think you've got a monopoly on that ache and that hungry space inside. Watching you hurt, yeah, but watching you dish it out, too, and never know. And sometimes I wanted to slap you, for all the good it would do for you, or sometimes just out of that hurt and fury that means I've got my own empty spaces, my own nightmares walking inside.
Sometimes I wanted to take the hurt away; there's always that trap, of wanting to play saviour myself. And then sometimes, I want nothing more than to grab you by the shoulders, and put your back up against that wall myself, because I know damned well you'll never stop running if I don't. But that's just me playing god again. And if I don't mention the pleasure that comes of watching you hurt after you've pushed me out, turned down everything I could offer and then cry because you're lonely, I wouldn't be truthful.
And so here we are.
What is this? It's a moment of honesty. It's me telling you flat out what I expected you to see, what you would've known if you'd taken your head out of your arse, and looked. Just a moment.. this pain isn't gonna last for long. I'm waking up now, you see, and my grip on this shadow's gonna loosen as I do. And you don't have to think about it, after all. It's a fever dream. A phantasm. See? I'm giving you all the excuses you need, to ignore me and ignore this, and go back to running. And I will, too. Ten, fifteen minutes from now, things will be back to normal, and I'll be telling you what I think you need to hear, censored by good taste and what I want you to think of me. As a matter of fact, that time's due to start any second.
Are those your nightmares catching up, or mine?
Addendum:
I hadn't had this posting up for five minutes before I got flamed for it. Guess what? It's not -about- any particular person. I didn't sit down with any one name in mind. If I had, I would have made sure said person -knew- to whom I was referring. If you have to wonder, though, then maybe you need to look at yourself in the mirror just a little bit harder.
Damn right, I'm annoyed.
Yes, I know, I said it was gone. But, as someone suggested, I'm giving everyone more credit for having what it takes to see this entry as a construct, a fancy, and nothing more. The self-censorship is fine before I decide to say something, but it's a bad precedent, to remove entries for fear of reprisal, and that's all I'm going to say on that.
You know those first few moments after waking, when reality seems blurred at the edges, and anything is possible? I'm clinging to one of them right now, trying to drag a half-glimpsed shadow fully into the light. It's an elusive thing.. but it's getting clearer.
...
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?
Stop running, and look. Really look. Put your back to the wall, if it makes you feel safer, if you think your nemeses are really going to catch up to you any damned second... and let the dopplered noise of your footsteps fade in your own mind. And look.
You've been running from shadows. How do I know? Because I've been there, of course. Yeah, I've run myself ragged and broken too. Keeping your eyes shut tight and hoping for the gift, the saviour, that'll swoop down and bring you through, bring you out, bring you everything you wanted in a paper cup with the lid on tight.
I know, it didn't happen for me, either.
I've been watching you forever, you know. Watching you run. Watching you cry. Seeing you think you've got a monopoly on that ache and that hungry space inside. Watching you hurt, yeah, but watching you dish it out, too, and never know. And sometimes I wanted to slap you, for all the good it would do for you, or sometimes just out of that hurt and fury that means I've got my own empty spaces, my own nightmares walking inside.
Sometimes I wanted to take the hurt away; there's always that trap, of wanting to play saviour myself. And then sometimes, I want nothing more than to grab you by the shoulders, and put your back up against that wall myself, because I know damned well you'll never stop running if I don't. But that's just me playing god again. And if I don't mention the pleasure that comes of watching you hurt after you've pushed me out, turned down everything I could offer and then cry because you're lonely, I wouldn't be truthful.
And so here we are.
What is this? It's a moment of honesty. It's me telling you flat out what I expected you to see, what you would've known if you'd taken your head out of your arse, and looked. Just a moment.. this pain isn't gonna last for long. I'm waking up now, you see, and my grip on this shadow's gonna loosen as I do. And you don't have to think about it, after all. It's a fever dream. A phantasm. See? I'm giving you all the excuses you need, to ignore me and ignore this, and go back to running. And I will, too. Ten, fifteen minutes from now, things will be back to normal, and I'll be telling you what I think you need to hear, censored by good taste and what I want you to think of me. As a matter of fact, that time's due to start any second.
Are those your nightmares catching up, or mine?
Addendum:
I hadn't had this posting up for five minutes before I got flamed for it. Guess what? It's not -about- any particular person. I didn't sit down with any one name in mind. If I had, I would have made sure said person -knew- to whom I was referring. If you have to wonder, though, then maybe you need to look at yourself in the mirror just a little bit harder.
Damn right, I'm annoyed.
Yes, I know, I said it was gone. But, as someone suggested, I'm giving everyone more credit for having what it takes to see this entry as a construct, a fancy, and nothing more. The self-censorship is fine before I decide to say something, but it's a bad precedent, to remove entries for fear of reprisal, and that's all I'm going to say on that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}