Alone.thoughts.remastered.dot.com_Leaving Footprints_A Disappointing Dream of Sight_The Owl
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Alone.thoughts.remastered.dot.com
Alone.thoughts.remastered.dot.com.I roar. I am alone. It’s dark here. I roar to scare myself. Away. In the wood’s depth and darkness, the creatures of my mind linger, waiting to annihilate me in their appetite for meat and drive for a full stomach. Their illusory presence obstructs my path and forces me to stop. I imagine my own personal inferno, where the control centers of my capable mind are habitually abandoned by myself as I choose to obey such demands induced by fears or insecure thinking. We all like to stay small. It’s a human drive.I see my reflection in a lake in the dark wood, the w...
Leaving Footprints
I love the sound of fresh snow crunching under my feet. The way the cold smells, the way the wind bites my face, the way Rosie (my dog) smiles at me… what is there to not love about taking winter walks? Every time I go, I wonder why I don’t go more often. My foot catches on a disguised root, and I land awkwardly, smashing face first into the wet white stuff. Spitting out snow from my mouth, I scramble back up to my feet. Continuing on! Braving the elements with my valiant tiny dog by my side! I adjust the leash on my wrist— wait. It isn’t there. I look down at the snow; maybe I’v...
A Disappointing Dream of Sight
As she wanders throughout the new house she runs her hand against the wall. Feeling every crack, bump and rip in the wallpaper. Since she lost her sight, she has relied on her fingers to show her the way. At her age she should be with her friends wreaking havoc dwww.onedoor.ccown the streets of her old town, but her parents thought she could use a restart. They feared bullies and discrimination due to her new found difference. She began to lean on her hand more thinking this hall would last forever but then there was a sudden dip and she tripped and fell to the ground into a dark room although she wouldn’...
The Owl
I awoke in a sweat, as the night became another day, the past hours have left me without memory of all. I worry not; a voice still speaks to me, its a piece of me spiritually, not physically, but mentally and perfectly.The innocence of man exists again one day, its a continuous cycle I see happening with pause whence we've gone overboard and went beyond our expected limits. This is what I dreamed, This is what she wanted me to see, perceive, and write for the world to read. for the starved to eat.It's 3:33 a.m. and the windows cracked, with a candle lit, as an invitation to my mysterious owl f...