White Grizzly has returned from his hiatus.I wonder what I will tell him. I wonder if my secrets will flee from my lips, or whether my second nature will seal me up proper.
I want to seal it up from everybody. I know this age is green, but bricks keep dropping like rain. Its not proper for this to continue. I was supposed to have made my escape long ago. I live in between mountains, in the valleys and the crevices. Its where I was born and its where I made my home. Every year I ascent those mountains, but I never stay, its so cold up there. Its warmer in this lonely town.
Sometimes, I wonder if all the grandeur I dream of will be looked at by historians as an irrelevant footnote. I'm always dreaming, always left in that dark wondrous neverland. Where history doesn't mean a thing, and I am not stuck here. I am in a hopeful future. Its hard to resist acting towards that future as soon as I awake.
I think the Man I am in my dreams is a different person. He's in love with everything. He really is a torchbearer. He has a light about him and his story compels.
Right now I hate everything. Mostly because the cancer reaches everything. The smoke arises from my foolish mouth and stains everything I speak into. Its like a cigarette addiction. Sin is like cigarrettes. Thing is, no one finds my smoke appealing. It stains homes, and churches.
I dream of a day where my breath is purified. But there no cure for sin. Just death.
Even when gazing upon the king, its in the back of my mind, gnawing away. I will look away, divert my gaze.
There is no cure. Sainthood is allusive. Must I always question your grace? Are the transmissions turned off? Why do I feel like I am the brides disease? Why do I always feel this way?
Blackbird, you would dream it all away. Sometimes I feel that way too. I just want them to be true. Not dreams. I hate these dreams.
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