The exterior of you is hardened, but your core softer than the innards of a ripe peach freshly plucked in the spring. I'm trying so very much not to get too close, but as we both know, gravitation is all too easy when energies are magnetic. I close my eyes. Letting the feeling wash over me, I pray for a new day to make things right with you.
The sun rises, and I know my chance is now. Unbinding my arms and legs, I walk a free woman. Slipping in and out of your consciousness. I invade your thoughts, and you are in mine. But for the first time I know better than to fall docilely into this entrapment of the notorious sweet nothings and late nights cuddling cozy.
My mind is not racing. But my life is. Literally. Flashing. Like the canon camera you hold on occasion, making me as permanent as the film strips and ink mirroring my subdued expression the moment you took it. I am into no one this way.
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My entries cannot begin to encompass all of my experiences, but one thing is apparent. I am a lover always. I have 3 homework assignments to do, jogging in the morning, a 9 am class after that. a test. a field trip. a math class in the afternoon. books to read. Life to find. There is not a dull moment. Savor each day.
I love my bike like nothing I've ever loved. It gives me hope of this new day. It reminds me that I am growing, moving, disappearing, and reappearing elsewhere. It is a symbol of my new found identity. Some think I'm rasta. I think I'm awakening to my very porous being. I am fluid like the wind. You cannot repress me, but I can die down and reappear elsewhere. I must be climaxing, because I just feel myself rising--floating--right out into the stratosphere.
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