Frosted Heavens

As it rains over the frosted heaven, I can see clearly. That which blocked my vision has disbursed and all is revealed, there is no place left for this fear to hide and the only option left is to confront it head on, as always.

I would be lying if I was to say I had no worries of what they will find, but there are plenty of people in this sinister world of ours who have troubles far worse than mine, it’s time to stop worrying, or at least try too.

Having insight in to problems such as these gives a larger view of the world. It helps you see people with familiar vacant stares and potential reasons as to their anguish, though there is never any guarantee they share the same woes. Gut feeling often tells me all I need to know, to learn to trust gut feeling is a skill few will ever willingly accept because gut feeling is never wrong. A bold statement, but if you trust your gut feeling you will know the truth in those words.

Being able to stand here are just stare in the space is a rarity in our modern world. The concrete jungles that overrun the surface are ever growing and these places of calm are few and far between, but the do still exist in small pockets of the world. They are removed from life as it were, frozen in time, devoid of what is reality but that’s not always a bad thing, especially in a world that never sleeps.

It’s such a clear night, there is no wind, no sounds, nothing.

I do enjoy this tranquility, it is at times like these that you realise nothing really matters because in this moment only my thoughts occupy where I stand. I almost look forward to this time every night because it is the only time I am every truly able to have peace.

The hour is 2AM, I would invite you to share it with me but this is my time.

It’s Raining Again:

Reality will choose to rain on those who deserve the sun, but that rain is a gift because it will hide the tears that we don’t want anyone to see. This is what allows those fabled few to hide in plain sight, free of prying eyes and the uneducated who deem to know all.

I often wonder how people perceive what is written each day. Do they see it as a door to the soul or perhaps just simple creative writing written with small hints of truth, either way it doesn’t really matter because writing should mean something to the person who writes and if others connect then let the good times flow, but if they don’t then it’s ok because it doesn’t really matter, after all, we’re not all world class authors, some of us are just regular people who enjoy writing.

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