Monday, November 24, 2003

Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.

~~Emily Brontë ~~


What is this, you say? Happy poetry? No!! *grins* But in spite of my see-sawing moods, I am still, at heart, a person who can be happy and can love and... have not bad things in their life. Did that even make sense? I don't know... but at any rate, I need to be positive. I can't stand to not be anymore.

Sometimes I think that sadness is like a cold, deep pool. It hurts so badly at first, but then after awhile you start to grow numb. You know that you are hurting. Every part of you is screaming to get out, to save yourself. So afraid of feeling, of risking hurt again you swim firther out to the middle. Its only when you can't swim anymore, when you feel yourself slipping under the water, when you try to take a breath and your nose and mouth fill with water that you want to live. You realize that you don't want to die, that somehow life has to be worth it. And by the grace of God, I've have been saved from that yet again.

I don't know what else to say right now... I am content to live.

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