Send in the Clowns

I suppose you can say that I'm a wee bit touched in the head......I mean, who the hell isnt? Especially in this modern day world that spins much too fast, so fast that it sometimes makes me naseuous and dizzy. I've never been a fan of carnival rides and circus clowns, and yet, here I am, on a perpetual roller coaster ride surrounded by a myriad of painted faces, exaggerated personas mimicking a cornucopia of different emotions. Happiness, sadness, mischieviousness, innocence, and perversion, to name a few, looming in and out of my line of vision.......one clown more absurd than the next. What are they hiding, this cast of characters, behind their make-up I wonder? But I am doing the same thing......each morning I stand before my bathroom mirror. I meticulously paint on my face, step by step, red lips the final touch.......I paint on my happy face to show the world that I am okay....and like most clowns....hiding behind pain that is not palpable, but hurts just the same........ I suppose you can say I'm a wee bit touched in the head.....but at least, I can see through my make-up.....Can you see through yours?             ~Vita~

~and then there was nothing~

~There was nothing......just a deep dark void of velvety blackness. No one spoke to me, there were no words of love, consolation, or forgiveness, there was absolute nothingness. But I wasn't yet dead, though I wasn't alive....breathing..... yes, because that is what the body does with or without our permission. I was enveloped in thick total darkness, without sound, without thought, without fear, without feeling anything. There were no demons to drag me to the depths of hell, and no Angels to mercifully lead me back home.....This is what purgatory must be like, because I pray there is something more glorious awaiting us when we exhale our last breath....After all that mortal life puts us through, there has got to be something more, doesn't there? I think maybe, if we can create our own personal hell, then we ought to be able to create our own personal heaven, here on earth.....we can try to, if nothing else.....we can try with every fiber of our being.~

~The Gift~

You take this gift that was given you, all wrapped up in shiny, glittery paper, tied with silken ribbon, and presented to you with thoughtful hesitation, humility, love.......At first you are pleased, thankful, and sing songs of praise. You proudly wear your new gift as a king wears his crown, in full glory, for all the world to admire....but slowly, in time, you decide that your gift no longer suits your needs, and you tire of it. How do you return such a gift you ask yourself, without being perceived as ungrateful and insensitive, without insulting and hurting the one who so graciously bestowed the gift upon you, given to you with pure heart, as a child gives a hand-picked flower to her mother.....There is no way to give back the gift of love without consequence, without pain.....no matter how consoling and apologetic the return... ~Vita~

Prince of Broken Hearts

                                   Prince of Broken Hearts

He is no Prince, this collector of wounded hearts. He steals them from the most beautiful and sensitive of his admirers, 

with his charm, his wit, and words plucked from the depths of their souls and softly spoken, as if his own.. Each precious 

heart is wrapped in colors according to worth, and stacked neatly, tucked away in a darkened and secret corner of his 

mind, a place he seldom visits. But sometimes, when the light of the moon shines upon his restless sleep, the beating of 

his stolen hearts awakens him with their slow and steady tempo.....and they bleed, they bleed, they each bleed the same 

color.

~The Look of Love~

           He looked deep within my eyes and told me not to look away. I could feel him searching, peering for something that he so desperately wanted, but I did not have to give. I tried to hold his gaze......but the look on his face left me feeling empty, guilty, shallow.....I had no choice but to look away. Such wanting and neediness, I resent these feelings in myself,  how am I to forgive them in another? Maybe he is right when he tells me I will never know what real love is.....maybe he is right.

~It's Only Love~

The thing is, when you fall in love, madly, crazy, passionately in love, after so many years of being emotionally comatose, it is exhilarating and frightening as hell at the same time. You're not used to wearing your heart on your sleeve. You are also unsure of how to act, what to say...so you decide to simply be yourself and let your light shine forth. But what happens when you fall in love with someone who is not emotionally available? It's not like we can pick and choose who we fall for is it? I don't have that sort of control over my heart I'm afraid. And what happens when your friends don't really understand or realize how much pain you're in? You keep everything bottled up inside and try to stay positive and know that this too will pass, in time. It's only love...no big deal, probably just an infatuation...Life goes on. Well.....let me tell you that I suffer. I hurt. I cry....and while this may pass, it has deeply affected me for the rest of my life, because I am built that way.... But it's no big deal., it's only love...and in the big scheme of things life does indeed go on......and I'll be alright. But never, never ever minimize the way that I feel..................................................

How Are You?

You asked how I am and I replied: "I'm doing okay, you know, trying very hard, very hard." You replied: "What are you trying very hard to do?" My answer was: I'm trying very hard to keep my self together, trying very hard to remain happy and maintain a positive outlook on life. Trying very hard to not stand too close to the abyss of despair once again because I don't want to fall back in for it's much too difficult a climb back up to the land of the living. Trying very hard not to love you or to simply love you and release you to the wind........but I said all these things in my mind and you never heard these words. You can no longer bear to hear my words because you don't really want to know how I am doing. I am doing okay...........and how are you? No, tell me truly, how are you doing?