i am the child of the wasteland....a land of haunted houses and monsters i call father. dark talents run in the family, but i shatter the glass to let the moonlight in, not to destroy something fragile for the feeling of breaking beneath my fists. all i can do is scream, crawl out, and keep screaming. but i can hold the sparrow, mend its wing... i am the spring rain and the hurricane... the monsters cower now, not me, not you. *xn*

Sunday, Feb. 09, 2003 - 2:37 pm

one day not too long ago it was misty and grey- like the grey mist in the mountains, tendrils of smoke from a cabin lying low.. and it was clean. the mist and rainy snow had been cleaning the sky above for days and here it was, not a city mist but a true mountain blur. out my window a rare tree covers part of the "view", the side of a building and a ways down ave "a", but the square buildings in the skyline further on were slightly obscured in the haze and suddenly it looked as if i was in the blue ridge mountains- looking up into a highland of trees and cliffsides misty violet in the distance. for a second i was truly frozen- back to childhood when for a moment i was standing in virginia looking up and out and wishing i could just keep walking until i was lying under those trees up there high above the hollows and valleys. then when the sirens and trucks rumble by, its over, and its just a sad tree trapped in the city and my window that has a crack in it, and the caverns of stone the buildings create... i wish these moments could be saved and re-run in my head with the same clarity, until the day i go and stay for real, because thats what i need more than anything, more than any prescribed substance (or not) could ever do to make me feel better about being a human right now.

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