she dreamed the same dream night after night~We are an orchestra of one, we are a majesty unveiling, we are newly born lovers, christening one another with mouths and hands and seeking tongues. We are everything and nothing~ Night is falling. night is falling. and I am drowning. in your arms. I am safe again. I am safe again. You surface me, and cling to me, night is falling and I am in my place again. above you, beneath you, wherever it pleases you so... oh my love, I am home again. My heart has been reborn again. the night is falling. and so am I . Falling for you ( into you, above you, through you). night is falling. night is falling. and so am i. so am i. always for you. for you.

blustarswendy3

~random vintage wendchymes~

prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08

2002-11-20 - 10:04 a.m.

There is something that I want to do, something that I need to do, but I am terrified. What is it about change that is so frightening to us? I feel as if I have been a constant, since I was thirteen, the voice in my head sounds the same, but the thoughts are so varied and mutated now.

When I was thirteen, my life cycled around wanting my MTV , collecting posters of Duran Duran, dreaming of ways to spend my babysitting money, and begging my mother to buy me white rain hair mousse at K mart. And ohhhhhhh how I coveted my beloved pale buttercup yellow and cornflower blue argyle sweater.

Everyday I was forced into my catholic school girl uniform of navy blue and white, which became endlessly wrinkled and untucked, to show my growing disdain for being told what to wear, and what to think, and just what jesus thought of me for passing a sarcastic note in french class.

Back then I snickered, at my peers for there immaturity, boys did not really interest me, with there acne and peach fuzz and braces. My adolescent lust was channeled directly into a consuming passion for sophisticated big haired Rock Stars and married thirty year old's. My crushes were crushing indeed. Rock Stars never call or write, but they do pen you love letters in the form of songs. At least I had that, to send me softly into dreams every night.

oh, the innocence. oh the pretty little ways I dreamed.

and now, I am standing on the other side of 32.

How do we absorb our past, nothing ever remains the same. In between, so many things closedown, come to an abrupt end. We build up, we expand, we tunnel and hide, climb and fall. Life is seemingly a series of scaling new terrains and plunging blindly into the unknown. We are constantly navigating around the consequences of the choices we make. Nothing is the same, I know I am different, but there are still flashes of the terrible two year old, and the stubborn eight year old, and the sarcastic 13 year old, and the goth 15 year old, slow drowned inside of me.

I want to put a demon to rest. Have a raging bonfire, say goodbye to the ghosts, and bury the bones. I want to believe in change. I want hope to flutter back into my life. I want to think it is possible. I have this vision in my head. the same one I have always had, I keep changing the colours, and the background, blurring and unblurring the edges but the composition is the same. Over the years I have replaced and erased many faces, now I just see two.

It is a photograph of a dream. Etched in my mind.

and all I need to do, is change everything.

change everything. So I can get you here.

So I can get you here.

so you can change my life,

change it into something so much more

than this static holding pattern of waking up without a single thing to focus on except myfuckingself.

I cling to the belief that

in your smile, the mystery will be revealed. and that it will have all been worth it.

now, if only I was strong enough to believe.

if only i was strong enough.

If only i was strong.

If only

If only

I

believed

in

miracles.

If only the thin twisting threaded sensation this morning, of ovulating on my left side, was not such a painful reminder to me, like a lost snapshot laying at the bottom of a murky pond weighed down with stones and bones and debris.

if only if only if only if only indeed

old starlight - new starbright

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