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Sep. 4th, 2017 09:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xinjinmengThis morning was nearly identical to all the other mornings that came before it, and it was chillingly familiar. The bones of forearms vibrate like forks, and there is no one here to put their fingers on them, to tamp the reverberating hollowness. This feeling is not new, but the intensity is not common.
The sun crosses the indifferent sky, and I know that while I'm not the same person I was yesterday or the month before, or the year before that, I am the legacy who came before me, and their mistakes are mine to correct. It would be so facile, so blithe to declare the interesting clamor about me is something new, something strange. But even the most cursory of inspections can find the roots of these weeds go deep. "This is the world we live in, and these are the hands we're given." The world doesn't wake up from history, it is a narcoleptic dream.
The autumn is upon me. I will rise from this chair, while there is still strength within me. I am beautiful and as terrible as this dawn, and the bellow of the dragon will tear this land apart. Or at least tickle the bones.
Also, I am hungry. I wonder if being hungry makes me poetic.
I hope this day has you with just the right level of hunger. I hope your sky is bright and open. I hope all of you have a happiness, but I know so many of you do not.
There's someone I forgot to be.
The sun crosses the indifferent sky, and I know that while I'm not the same person I was yesterday or the month before, or the year before that, I am the legacy who came before me, and their mistakes are mine to correct. It would be so facile, so blithe to declare the interesting clamor about me is something new, something strange. But even the most cursory of inspections can find the roots of these weeds go deep. "This is the world we live in, and these are the hands we're given." The world doesn't wake up from history, it is a narcoleptic dream.
The autumn is upon me. I will rise from this chair, while there is still strength within me. I am beautiful and as terrible as this dawn, and the bellow of the dragon will tear this land apart. Or at least tickle the bones.
Also, I am hungry. I wonder if being hungry makes me poetic.
I hope this day has you with just the right level of hunger. I hope your sky is bright and open. I hope all of you have a happiness, but I know so many of you do not.
There's someone I forgot to be.
