Snap shots of a tear-stained face

In the unchartable depths behind my eyes, wheels of colour dance, blown by some strange wind that would chill you to the marrow to feel it.

Images - snap shots - of things that have been or have yet to be flicker in and out in no discernable order. Strands of music buzz through the air like living rays of light; illuminating everything around them in a multitude of yellows and blues. Beams of the purest colours shine down from above, as if rent asunder by a giant diamond prism.

Some would look at this and see only chaos and madness. I look at this and see beauty that is wild and free, untamed by chisel or lute, paper or canvass. This purity inspires me. It gives me the strength to perservere.

I capture small portions of this to show others what I have seen, but I know not if my efforts are in vain.

Can you hear the mystery calling to you? Can you reach out and touch it, calling it to yourself, letting it envelop you and help you to find your way?

Maybe I'll be stuck like this forever, until my tears wear my body away like the ocean does a mountain. Until the darkness overcomes my heart and snuffs me out like a candle's pale flame, with a single gust of icy wind. Until my loneliness tears me in two and my anger consumes me like burning wood, leaving only ashes of what was before, a scant reminder of a ruined life. I burn even now. I burn with indecision.

Should I give up this fight that will eventually lead me to my downfall, or should I keep up the fight and endure the pain as a consequence?

Maybe some day I will find a way out of my personal darkness, my personal hell, but for now... now I will put on my mask and continue on with my back straight and my head up. I have nothing to fear but fear itself; which I won't let bother me. To be afraid of fear is a pointless waste of time, and I need all that I can find. Fear is just the unknown. Logical thinking dispels the gloom.

Maybe some day I will be able to tell my friends how much I truly need them and how much I rely on them being there for me. Maybe some day I can rejoin my friends in my make-believe world, and this one, to play on the green grass all day long.

Maybe some day I'll find the mysterious antidote that will clear this vicious poison from my senses and I can return home with a light heart and I won't have to hide my tear-stained face from the world any more.

Maybe some day I'll be free at last.

Despite everything, life goes on. Another silver tear rolls down my face in the lengthening silence.

Yes.

Life goes on.