Monday, April 05, 2004
we have learnt to control ourselves so beautifully that now, when all you want to do is shed everything that clings, tentacle-like, to your life, you can't. but of course, you don't know that as you untie the strings, pull the packing peanuts and bubble wrap and wadded-up newspaper away and stand like something Michaelangelo would have loved- clean line of muscle and dip of bone, shallows and silk of skin. and there you stand, proudly pulled up to your full height, feeling alive and electric and graceful. you are an angel, you are Icarus, you could touch the sky and walk on water and do all the things you have always plotted and planned to but never really did.which is when you discover that you can't move, not even an inch, and it's your fault. your fault because you listened to everyone who told you to behave, to be quiet, to not say things like that. to be brave and strong and keep the pride. you didn't know then and now you're caught, dying to shriek and cry and love and finding youjustcan't...justbecause..because now you're so tightly glued together that your maelstroms whirlpool inside you, underneath your papier-mache skin, roiling and burning and rolling higher and higher until you're choking and desperate for release...to just explode from the sheer weight of it all- and youjustcan't.
when you're an island you're always waving goodbye
Mina at 12:29 PM
