My Diary Entries: Freedom

In breathing out the air what do we give to the world? A realization in the free warm air of what entrapment is.

I looked at her in the low illuminated realm of my bed. The remnants of the lights were coming from the stereo playing at the corner of the room. The low volume mixed in well with the light and somewhere they made a good amalgam to give evenness to what was. She did not shimmer in the stolen light. Instead, she surrendered her skin to the homogeny around her.

Somewhere in a sea of homogenous dunes, in the midst of the direction-seeking desert I stood facing the night. All that was above me, all that was below me, and all that was in front of me was a pitch of cold. Was I a part of it or an interloper trying to make my own light?

She waited for me to pick my pieces from the homogeny to build my story. Instead of imposing her own self as one definite character in my story, she let me to wander to my heart’s direction. There she was, in front of me, ready to be taken as a straw… ready to be taken as the jade…

I picked her in my fistful of sand from the pitch cold… I held her in the last song of the cassette. She smiled and let her distinctive fragrance overwhelm me.

I wondered what she had given me, and what she had held back.