I have known the rain. You know what I'm talking about, I am sure: out in the street with raindrops spilling from above, looking in through the window to a place where you don't belong. Cold and wet. If ever you're invited in, some time after that, you see things a little differently from those who were never on the outside looking in, those who were never turned away at the door. And even if you do get to be a member, some part of you will always be outside, a lingering twinge that you're not good enough for these people, or that these people are not good enough for you — or both. I dunno. I think rain is not shaken off so easily as all that, as easy as brushing off the water; somewhere inside you there haunts the memory of the storm, of the falling rain beating down.
me?!
10:56am friday, 7th march
ahh,im not alone feeling that then,good,good...
butterflyz
9:56am saturday, 8th march
Interesting that when i've sunk to my greatest depths I consider myself to be at the eye of the storm, that I've found the one small place of calm within the fury that rages around me. It is isolation and it is finality. You are trapped in the safest place you will ever really know.
Lisa
7:17am sunday, 9th march
Inside our own mind is where reality lives.....there is no room for judgement there. Acceptance is bliss!!!
me?!
butterflyz
Lisa