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Tuesday, September 14, 2010

no. 041 [beyond the yellow brick road: my missing part...]





"Tin Man" by Animal Kingdom

It's weird having this empty space. I'm not sure if I liked going off to Peru to come back to things being drastically different. So much went on in those two weeks, and now I'm feeling the backlash.

"I got no arms, I got no legs, got no shoulders but I got a head, I got a head that tells me stupid things to do."

I never knew that time could feel so empty. Hours that were once spent texting or on the phone are now wasted away staring blankly at the ceiling, or at an iPod screen, too preoccupied with thinking about a laundry-list of things to even begin to comprehend what is going on in the episode of RFR that I'm not watching again for the fifth time. Failed attempts at constant re-try's are only furthering the feeling of something being awry. Is this journey to the proverbial Emerald City supposed to be this empty?

"So tell me if it’s love, 'cause baby I’m a tin man. Tell me if it’s love...wanna be a real word."

I lay in a poppy field that is my bed, rusted and weary, with the destination in my sight, and it's right over the hill...yet that emptiness slows me down. Only motivated by dreams that you'll be there by my side, but then I wake up, even if it's just for a second. I carry on, with what would be a weary heart, but instead a place holder that keeps on ticking away the time I could of had...

"And is this love? Is this pain? Got a feeling I cannot mend. Slowly changing every part of me."
The pain in my chest where something that used to work was stands as a constant reminder of what I did wrong. Frozen, time stands still, marking the second those words slipped out of my mouth, questioning everything, even though I knew the answers. My words were the axe that chopped it down, and for what? Out of frustration, maybe? Desperation? Too bad the rain didn't stop me.

"I know you think I’m just a toy, but I wanna be a real boy. Only want to feel the same as you."

Now off course I have walked this yellow brick road alone, back to that Emerald City called reality. Yet it wasn't a dream, and those things really did happen, and I still have a missing part. The only constant is time in itself, but will time heal this? Is moving on supposed to be this difficult?

"Tell me if it’s love, 'cause baby I’m a tin man.
Since you took my heart...I’ve gotta missing part."
Confused, tired, and rusted from the journey I return home and put down my axe to the familiar ticking growing louder and louder, as time keeps on ticking...




*Written in April 2010

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