Life · Love · philosophical

Lost Paths

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me

I’m more than a bird…i’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see

It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me

Up, up and away…away from me
It’s all right…you can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything…

I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

Today I have been thinking about how hard it is to develop a certain perspective towards life; especially when you know what you are battling. I think most people do not often realize who the unseen enemy in the shadows of their life is; but I see mine clearly. I see every little thing that cripples me, everything that drives a dragger deep into my soul. It makes it harder to fight the demons. Self-awareness comes at such a price but I always keep alternating between reality and the other world I have built for myself, wondering how hard it will be if I ever had to introduce someone else to this second land. How would they react to the child inside me? Would they think I was crazy or on my way to losing my mind? Or would they see the things I see through my eyes?
So I have been trying to build new worlds around me; after all reality is what we understand of the world around us, nothing more or less. A few people might have noticed the subtle changes; some I have confided in and others have been silent observers. I think I am doing an okay job and after all, every battle has its set-backs. But yesterday I went walking into the night with a really close girlfriend- somebody I feel unbelievably free and real around. We walked around in the drizzle, avoiding crowded places and looking up at the overcast sky. I was thinking of my grandmother. I do not know why. It has been three years since she died I think. But the sky looked so melancholy and grey and the night was dark and moonless and I found myself thinking of evenings back at my grandparents’, where we would sit on the roof and eat fruit. i was missing my mom too suddenly; old mummy who hadn’t been through the pain of losing her mom. And I was missing those old days and my grandmother and I realized that though the sky still looked the same as it had those years ago, I was in a different time and place all-together and everything was so different.
I felt sad and lost and I couldn’t understand what I was trying to do. If I move down one path, I start missing what I left behind. I know they say you shouldn’t look back and I know that the road I am on will lessen all my pain and make me the kind of person who would blend in better with the world probably and not be so lost and have an easier life but the path that I am leaving behind is beautiful. It is pure and leaves little room for doubt. It lets me have faith in people. It lets me be a child. Sure, it hurts like hell and makes it impossible for me to be normal in even the simplest of circumstances, but it is just so delightful and inviting that I find it hard to give up its security and even as I do give it up, I miss it and feel sad to have to lose it