01/09/2015
This is the beginning and the end for me. I have great hopes myself. I feel that it is a newborn bird whose eyes are raised to the sky. It want only to look up, and then Heaven will surround me. I can almost feel the edge as it presses my soul- but then, something shifts within me. What I need now is only to open that door . . . one of my great hopes is that I will someday become- I know that I could carefully measure my words with precision- meter them out onto the page with a fine tool, if given the chance. More than anything else, I am in want that experience- I know that I can have it.
I
am a dove that was made to fly. I want of experience so that I can connect the
dots, to make my work truly marvelous, to sketch it with life as it extends
beyond the parapet- the plinth behind bars. I could no longer rest behind caged
bars, any more than a fish was made to traverse on land. I need to be let loose
into the world, so that I can spread my wings fully. I could no longer be the
usage for one's pen, than I could learn to follow a belief I have no interest
in. I need to fly so that I can take ownership: I need to be in control.
I
am a different breed than the rest. I was made to be aerodynamic, with a need
to pick up, and fly, at any moment. I need to be set free . . .
