A Mind of My Own

It's cool unless I am sitting directly in the sun. I have found a window in the library. It's my nook and it overlooks a cedar. I hear the bells toll on the hour. I love university and wish that I was able to take another two classes, unfortunately the university has a limit.

I am so angry with myself this week for being foolish, for being human. I have a terrible habit of blindness when it comes to my heart. I overlook more than I see and allow my sense of imagination to overpower my sense of self-protection. This is neither bad nor good, only a realistic assessment of my natural proclivity to insist on trusting hypothesis versus reality.

On this point I am thrilled to have the capacity for feeling. The ability to trust, feel, and imagine are precious qualities. I know that. I know too much and hope that this knowing does not interfere with my ability to imagine a world of my own making.

Fuck broken trust. It is not okay, It makes me not want to trust ever again and that's what bothers me, that's what hurts, not the fact of gone. I could give a shit about that. I care about the broken system of communication, the failure to be realistic and honest, I care more about the principal of action. The broken trust is in me, not in the other person. It tells me that I was wrong to trust or chose clearly the wrong person to trust.

I am not sold on this bias. I will continue but more wary. I will not stop loving you always.

It is now the moment of truth and that is mine that no matter what we all chose and in our choices we stand somewhat diffuse from our reflection. I am wrapping the silk around the chambers of my undiscovered heart.

I am listening Chopin's Nocturnes played by Elizabeth Leonskaja. Her sense of halt is impeccable.