Thursday, May 10, 2012
Scrambled Vision . . .
So hard to pick myself up off this bathroom floor as the walls close in around me. Suddenly, I feel so distant from these dreams I once dreamt, what happened? Maybe I’ve been in this godforsaken city too long? Maybe I’ve lost my focus for being here? Maybe I’m just tired of the struggle, the never ending traffic, the constant pulling in 40 different directions, the lies, the backstabbing, the men who want to fuck me, the latter everyone feels the need to climb to prove their worthiness. Why did you tell me to move to this cesspool of inauthenticity? Yes, I’ve helped many people. And yes, I’ve grown into a beautiful woman over the years but how much longer do you plan to leave me here? I miss South Africa .. I miss the love, the passion, the authenticity I had for life there. Tell me I will feel that spark again, tell me I will burn with passion like that again, tell me all these tears have not been in vain. Tell me you will use every ounce of this journey for good. Tell me these are the final throws? Or tell me nothing at all .. but don’t leave me here on this bathroom floor.
Posted by bebe booth at 12:55 PM