As I'm sitting here in my car looking out over a 100 foot cliff over the beautiful glittering expanse of the pacific, I finally reach the end of of 'the Phantom of the Opera' cd I was listening to, and a quite song by the title of 'learn to be lonely' swirls quietly into the air. While I listen to it, a dark fog rolls steadily across the sparkling waves, dulling their colors into dull grey. The lyrics speak of the fact that my heart has always known that it has been alone, as the sunlight fades to shadow.
My heart sinks slightly at the thought of being alone, and speculates at the truth or non-truth of the words. I live alone in my heart for now, and while that may be normal, my heart begins to panic at the thought of the continuing seclusion that may be my lot in life. Meanwhile the tendrils of choking fog crawl across ocean towards the shore.
I clear the foolish despair from my mind in a flurry of normality as I start my car once more, and am content in my hope. But as I drive away, a small crevice in my mind notes that the fog is familiar. . .
. . . I have seen it before, and its forms still wander in my mind. The darkness conceals working tentacles covered in barbs, ripping apart a wooden fishing boat. The darkness hides winged horrors that settle with finality upon a bright cruise ship.
. . . I can not look that way. That way is insanity.
It holds my fate.
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Just a note, this is more part of a story than my own feelings. I got really into the mood. There are a few of my own feelings in there, but I've exaggerated quite a bit.
ReplyDeleteWow. I should hope so! Though very poetic, that is really morbid.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry that you had to settle for your version of Phantom though. Especially in such a moody place. Colm Wilkinson would have had an even stronger effect.
@Merissa - Actually, I really think that my Phantom is quite fantastic. His dynamics are fantastic. Especially towards the end.
ReplyDeleteBut you know, it's ok to feel like that sometimes. Obviously not all the time, or most of the time, but sometimes. After all, how can a writer emotionally move his reader when he knows nothing about or has no experience with the feelings he is trying to describe?
ReplyDeleteGood job on that by the way. It's brilliantly sunny here, and I still felt the darkness.
@rachelizabeth - As you say, if you have not felt any given emotion, how can you potray it accurately?
ReplyDeleteWriting is my release. I let my darkness and anger and fear pour into my words, leaving me empty. But not utterly so. It leaves what I would prefer to be behind.
Exactly. It's actually ironic, how 'writing out' one's frustration can bring contentment. It's such a balm. And it's easier than talking to someone about it.
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