“I am Free, That is Why I’m Lost”

Naughty, is the sound of distance. It calls out to you, and you can hear its voice, kissing you as you gaze out the window of a moving car, everything else a blur. Your eyes light up with the buzz of energy that lights up the hilly buildings leaping out everywhere you turn.

The tunnel dimly lit, echoes its whispering song, “come to me” cries distance. “Come to me!”
Your heart skips a bit, now two, digits move randomly and with the magic that you know surrounds this moment, as if almost on cue, that perfect song plays. All life is now inconsequential. All that matters isn’t Time. But the haunting call of Distance.

You let the window roll down as the air smells of rain, the traveling has begun. You are not here, you are far away, lying on a single broken leaf that takes the initiative to take you away. Maybe to a Time when you once were hope…

…And there you are, staring up into the sky as a slice of memory bows down in the first drop of rain. Gathering pace; it is essential that you let yourself go right now, because Distance is calling, and Time is showing you the way. No, you are not alone.

Playing in a garden of your dreams is that child that once was hope. When did the notes change? Who altered the progression of your beautiful symphony and when did the wrongs begin to matter. Litle eyes question you, blaming you for dying.

The wind jabs at your choking heart; Distance calls again, and you know it’s time to leave. One last look at that child of power, and you are off now, a little invigorated, feel the dry air comb through your hair, you’re siting on a drop of runaway rain, Distance is calling, and you go further.

Valleys, rivers, fields, the ocean, and that first sunrise you haven’t yet woken up to see, Life begins to make sense again.

And your heart skips a beat.

It’s so easy isn’t it, to give all your power away?To see your light burn out. To cling on to the beast of madness, to rope down that slipping ache, chain it down, because really, you don’t know if you exist without it.

The sweet ache of surrendered power that stabs and pokes at just the right places. Yes, sweet poison it is.

So what if Time overwhelms. So what if magic stares at you in the face. And so what, if strangers choose to dance their dance of madness. You hold onto the ache. Because you know that Distance calls, and you can always go away.


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