It’s hard to be happy, when it seems that everything important to me, in my life, slips away.
I know it’s not an accident. For every action an equal and opposite reaction occurs. Which I take as, if there is another me out there in the world, he must be the luckiest S.O.B. alive! The other side of the scales, since I am Capricorn. The light to my dark. The essence to my self. The one who eats my dreams and fantasy’s with pleasure, as I dine on apathy. The lucky one who knows how it feels to come away with the prize, while I verbalize my despair through an electronic device, and print it out to cheer myself up.
This is how it is. I began as a multi-faceted shape, lets say a hexagon. Each side of this hexagon was alive, buzzing with knowledge on subjects as diverse as one can imagine. I was a magnet for anything that came within reach of my senses. This information was triple filtered, until only the choicest information remained. Only the knowledge I needed to survive became important, I took it and used it. I survived.
The sides of the hexagon were not enough to contain what I had grasped. Some of the content was damaged, some of it wiped out, entire sections of my ego were irreparable. My eyes took on a see through gaze, I could feel the empire which was life crumbling. The hexagon was no more. My shape had changed.
As a square I had four sides, all equal. They were functional planes of my existence. Emotions were one of those sides. It began to get dented, after only slight use. I patched it up and held it together. The emotive soon became controlled by another side of the square, thus caving in the side which was patched and dented, why protect it when it was now empty?
Which left me a triangle. I spread my feet to shoulder width, and held my arms up and out to my sides and became as one with the triangle. It became braced by my external strength, and my internal knowledge that this shape was next to last. I could not let this crumble. I must defy the world from taking that away. I held tight to the knowledge that the world had taken everything else, this was all I had left. I was adamant that I would keep it.
Which seemed feasible at the time. The triangle was surrounded by blackness, (negative space) which had flooded where the hexagons walls once stood. It pressed the walls from all sides, this black negative destroyer, trying to smother by triangle. I held it in check for the longest of time. Then I got pushed over the edge by the power of loneliness, and soon was reduced once more, to my current state. The which will have to suffice until I can rebuild.
I will not allow this circle to be broken. This circle that holds me. I feel it’s wall pulsate and ripple as the world tries to figure out a way to pop this bubble. Through love and loss, through the many forms of sorrow it can bury my little circle with, I am that’s left. Inside a circle, inside a man, inside a body that craves it’s own fantasy’s and dream’s, inside a world of black.