A little of this and that

I don't know why I even put my thoughts out there into internet land. I don't know if anyone even cares to read them. I guess that is not as huge of a deal as some people might find. I want to start coming up with better stories and tales. Some for the kids and some more...... more fore me.  I forget how easy it is to weave a reality all your own. To make your printed world a little more of what you would want to see and feel. I forget the possibility and pathways a good story can take. So I guess this is my new side project goal(like I don't have enough of those right meow).
So what little world do I want right now? An adventure? A love story? Defiantly not a tragedy. I have had enough of that for now. I really want that perfect little escape from the very real and very serious happenings in my "real" world as of late. I want that story book reunion of two parted lovers. I want that epic journey or venture of jumping into life head first. There has been so much doubt and hesitation up until recently that these were only just distant dreams, but to have the chance to really do it- to say "fuck it" and leap! I want to be where I can do that not only in my head or in a story. I want to scream my affection from the roots of my lungs! Run free and breath in the air for the first time.
 I don't know why I seem to have a wall when it comes to really letting romance in. It seems that I seek what I will never get to hold and because I cling to that one love so, fingers clenched and knuckles white, that I seem to permeate a vibe that makes me invisible. I god damn it I know I am not a breathtaking goddess but for fuck's sake I am not a bridge troll. So what is it? How do I stop it? I guess I really know the answer to that but I am not sure how willing all of me is to completely let go. I keep a tiny bit locked away. Safe in a little chamber of that fragile little vital organ we seem to either guard to fiercely or freely. That safe and warm little place I keep memories. That's all I have left. And that's okay. I want so desperately to find that again. I know I close myself off to so much because I can't find the match to a true eccentric individual. How insane is that?  I need to figure out how to clean out the heavy burdens I carry in this hardly held together, weathered heart.
Fuck I had no idea what way my head was going to go when I started writing today. There has been so much thought bouncing round but not much output. That needs to change.

quiet

Crawling - no. Dragging my tired bones into bed at 4 am. Muscles overworked and threatening to give up. The feeling of being drained, sluggish, almost as if I am on auto pilot in a dream. Satisfied exhaustion overwhelming almost every need and desire at this moment...... almost.
Removing bits of extravagant costume in a very slow and mechanical way as my fingertips fumble to finish the last few tasks before I call it a night. Buttons, fasteners, and cloth all fall away.
Sliding into cool sheets,nothing but skin and soft settling.
The dimly lit room with it's blue day break haze and the strange, but sadly sweet french song playing on pandora, drifting through that close to dream state as my head hits the pillow.
Curling myself in and around mounds of pillows and blankets. Melting into the slow and deep feeling of rest. Letting my body go.
The french woman is still breathing her story into my ear as my eyelids slowly fall.
Sliding  sleepy hand through the edge of the nest I burrowed myself  into. Searching without thought. Finding only crisp biting air,cold sheets, and french songs.
wanting.....