Delivered.

Letter to the world as it was today.
My mind took a photograph, one of a moment clear. When memory may grow fuzzy, that feeling sparked in a moment may suddenly re-appear. As a flash it will return, I knew that in the very second, but in the photograph I must keep it, as time passes and delivers lessons from which I must truly learn.

In that second, that still frame of a time of life, question did not haunt eyes. There was no sign of a heart half hidden by scars of strife. Innocence was the only plague in such a picture.. sickly in its sweetness and invisible in it's shield. Delicious light, delight was all that came from the cries.

A smile can dance in its memory.. and yet it delivers much hurt. Fingers trace lips, feeling for words unsaid, the braille of dreams lost, smooth happiness tainted with dirt. The pull of the image.. the thoughts it inspires. To regret is not worthwhile. To be bitter is to betray the moment's smile. To feel sadness is to feed angers fire.

Thankyou's are all I have for this photograph. To lose them, is to give up the now.. Which is the next memory to be captured.. To thank only, is my solemn vow.

:)

Short 3am Thought.

There's a monster in my pocket, a hum of life sits in my ear. The chocolate has run out and snuggly jumpers line my suitcase. Inspiration may be lacking in force and yet at 3 in the morning a pull towards words leaves certain thoughts aching.

There are questions parading, constant in their hunt for attention. Trivial, I think. Ridiculous, I think. And yet they gnaw with their little fangs, nipping at braincells and stirring an exhausted mind. Questions of where to, of when. Of what now and of how. Of colours I need, creations unstable in their image just yet, plans not yet made, commitments to be faced.

There is quiet on the outside, cacophony within.

Quiet today.

Today the world began again. For me it began earlier than usual. The hint of sunlight decided for me the start of my days consciousness. Stinging eyes and peace of mind.. electric blanket and still air. The inexpressible comfort of a wakening to a day you owe to no-one.

I thought of clouds, their state of contradictory constance. I thought of my Mum and her love for the world. I thought of the smell of vanilla and apple, frangipani and lavender, how summer hides behind veils of sky and is as cheeky within itself as the mischief that it brings.

Music lifted me from blankets. Delicious tones and infectious smooth. Music like velvet cold and satin ice. It was with tranquil thought I rose to my day of nothingness.

I long for purpose to the day that involves not doctor visits or the awaiting of progression. For pain to cease. For the day that I can inform you that I am in fact just me and not a head clouded with ache and invisible ouch.

It will come. But this is the world today. And tomorrow, no doubt, it will begin again.