skutch

How strange this is, this feeling of freedom and uncertainty. For the first time in a while I don't know what I am supposed to be doing with myself. There isn't someone constantly yelling at me, telling me where to be, what to do, how to do it, and how quickly it needs to be done, rinse repeat ad infinitum. What is this unreality I feel...? Broken dreams. The high seas, openness and freedom and the immense expanse of blue, stretching beyond the horizon, distant promises of lands and loves and life so far away on the shores of another, almost forgotten land. An eternity in the space of two months. Has the world changed so much already? Is it me that is different... Broken and torn, ripped apart and put back together, but done so without a proper manual, maybe, and so maybe not quite in the right order, not quite the way things were, but maybe better, maybe so, but anyways different. An absence of the emptiness, that hole, the void in my feelings and emotions that protected me always, where is the quiet place, the screen from the world and pain and life and love and all the things that hurt and tear at you, where are the blinders, that seperation from the self that made things feel so very much like watching my own life from the outside... Why is everything so much more real and yet not? Am I just noticing more? Have things always been thus, but I never cared to pay attention? What is this I feel, haunted and hounded, my emptiness replaced by cold death and a burning turmoil, passion anger fury lust pain but mostly affection and a great yearning I've never felt before but it seems like its been there always, something new but old and why do I think of her now, now that I'm free but still far away, but I'll be home on Monday night, home again where the air is alive and I can breathe and feel and not be broken. I'll sleep and live my dream. I'll say goodbye to Death, because I'm not in that business anymore.