Picture a cold winters midnight, standing alone and naked within a clearing, surrounded by the silhouette of apple orchids, gloomy illuminated by a half moonlight that peers narrowly through a crevice of sheer black cloud.
Well, if you can picture that, then well done, now I shall inform you that it has nothing to do with me. But it sure sounded dramatic didn't it, like it was the inside personality of some stoic poet or serial killer. But i'm not either of those.
Now picture a stray dog with a look of mischief on it's face, like it's escaped from it's house and it knows it shouln't be out here but it's going to see what's down the road anyway. Think of how that dog must feel, like a teen out past curfew, naughty but fun.
That's how I sometimes feel. But why was it a dog? Well because i'm not a teen.
Picture yourself far out in a fierce ocean. The waves colliding from two directions over your head in a constant barrage. You realise that no one else has came out this far, perhaps you wonder why, maybe it's too dangerous? Do they know something you don't? But isn't this the place to be right now?You may not think so, because your standing out there with them, and i'm out there, but i'm not alone, i'm just out here with the other ones, but we can't always see each other through all the happenings on.
Log in to comment