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MONOLOG

echoes of a heart

remember when this diary, this Planet Candora was interactive, was more than the sum of it's parts, was something deeper than a series of idealistic love songs born of fantasy and distant inspiration?... anybody?... can we remember when I would read something that touched my heart and I'd reflect and respond (or even fall in love)?... it's all there, if you care to find it... before the life had a place of it's own... before the love warp and most other tragic flaws and dealy mistakes and the less optimistic hope was filtered elsewhere... when it was more complete, more full spectrum, and perhaps more real even as this was the place for fantasies and echos of a heart... harsh, cutting, real... when the borken pieces were flailing in the wind and somehow still hoping to come together... from the beginning, I call upon the history of this place to return now and give me a reason to return beyond prayer, beyond fluff, beyond hope... come, back to the depths, as if it was not all fantasy, as if it was not all perfect, as if it was real...

and I too find pieces of my past (never completely left behind) expressed in your words... you will be mentioned in an entry about this (one of the catch-up entries soon to be suddenly uploaded all at once, hopefully before the end of the next weekend)... I hope you find it... once, I sat in a closet and waited to die... another time, I sat on cold cement and waited to die... I was too numb even to care if I did or did not, so I took no action against myself (no feeling left at all, not even self-loathing or depression, just numbeness)... that was yesterday, though the weight of the experiences remain part of me always... today I just wander hoping someone might understand that damaged goods, that a broken, beaten, betrayed person with hideous inner scars might be somehow beautiful in someone's eyes, might still be understood and loved unconditionally like never before... I have many places to write and candoor is not where the depths come out, but candoor is where the mundane daily experience is recorded along with all the superficial games that make for an endless stream of diary entries that laugh at themselves and wonder how many, or if any actually notice the depth between the lines... to find the one who might understand it all, yes, that is why I write and publish dozens of diaries (most linked together, some not) waiting for, hoping for someone who will... see, feel, touch, heal, know... all this long note to say hello, welcome to my consciousness, and may you survive to share more of the dream you seek...

I believe it was this that inspired that (above)... and as I moved along in time to read more I found the entry pieces apart below so I can answer the questions for myself... direct the questions to my heart heart heart heart (note the echo... does that mean it's hollow?... wait, that was not supposed to be one of the questions)...

What will you do when the fascination ends? When the enchantedness of the words fail, when you can no longer find comfort in the arms of another.

I will wrap myself in myself and find more words, even if they are apparently completely incoherent even to myself, and continue with the shred of hope that I will wake up one day and in a moment everything will change because someone (maybe even myself) will suddenly understand and the fascination will then return...

and if it is all but foolish hope, but folly of fantasy, then it is this that life meant for me and that shall be enough for I gave it all I had, lived and died for this dream...

What will happen when you realize the dream is gone? The hopes you held in your heart were simply teasers to the reality you are left with.

I will listen to music that moves me, that releases my tears so i can cry myself to sleep until I wake floating on a cloud of fantasies and live there happily ever after, unless, of course, the realization that the dream is gone was just a bad dream and the I wake to find the dream coming true one more time in the reality I can live and share with another...

What will become of you when you discover that someone you once held in such high regard, is no more beautiful or powerful than the weaklings you've left behind.

I will shake in my foundation for it will my my own trust in my own senses and judgment that will be called into question and I will take time to learn how to trust myself again... each time the rebuilding of self-trust is more delicate and profoundly difficult, yet that is the challenge of a life dedicated to actualizing true love... and so far, this is the life I live...

What do you say to the ones that think you are the answer to everything, when in truth you haven't the slightest clue as to your own existance, let alone saving theirs.

I smile and remind them that they are responsible for their own choices, their own actions, and themselves...

I long ago gave up trying to convince anyone to believe anything other than that which they want to believe... we each see things the way we want to see them (even if we don't consciously acknowledge that) and we each believe what we want to believe... if someone is fool enough to want to follow me, then we shall get lost together...

How do you go on, knowing you've put so much of yourself into another, only to have that person not care, not give a second thought, have them use you until there is nothing left to give to anyone else?

I go on singing softly to myself and continue sorting through the clothes... and I hang on to the songs and words...

and I hope that others care
down deeper than they show
and I know that's what I want
even when I let life go
and I don't forget the dream
even when it's dead and gone
for I believe with or without me
it will carry on

love was here long before I came
love was real long before it became a game
love was true long before it was betrayed
and whatever happens to me, love remains

love was pure long before it got tainted
love was pleasure long before lies brought pains
love was the blessing long before the curse
and whatever happens to me, love remains

so I hope that others care
somewhere beneath their scars
far beyond their doubts and fears
wherever they are
and I know that's the best thing
even if I don't repond
for I believe with or without me
life will carry on

life was here long before I came
life was real long before it became a game
life was true long before we went insane
and whatever happens to me, life remains

life was pure long before it was corrupted
life was pleasure long before lies made it pain
life was the blessing long before we wasted it
and whatever happens to me, life remains

so I sing this simple song
even if it's wasted breath
if it's just something to do
while I sit and wait for death
and if it's all illusion
just a story in our brains
whatever happens to me
in the end
this song remains
whatever happens to me
this song remains

love was here long before I came
love was real long before it became a game
love was true long before it was betrayed
and whatever happens to me, love remains

love was pure long before it got tainted
love was pleasure long before lies brought pains
love was the blessing long before the curse
and whatever happens to me, love remains

so when I feel I no longer have use for my heart, when it is empty and broken and useless to me or anyone else, I give it away, if only in words, because maybe someone else can do something with it worth doing... stories, like art, reflect life...

These are all rhetorical questions, mind you. Ones I have been thinking on as of late. No one holds the answers to my questions but me, and the hardest question of them all still lingers.

Do I really give a damn about myself anymore?

...

Things that used to frighten me, give me nightmares, I now seek out. I offer myself to be used, abused, taken advantage of and then be thrown away. I punish myself, for no real purpose other than to find some meaning in anything.

There's little passion within this flesh, and what does exist, still only exists for him. Insane thought that is in itself, for I know better. And yet through all the darkness within, he is the only light.

If only he knew.

jiltedsoul

if she only knew... I've been there... long before I learned, mostly through written words, to divide and conquer the demons that plague my consciousness and haunt my heart... and now I pity the folly of my futility, the madness of self-doubt and depreciation and flaggelation, the stupidity of empowering the negativity and those who use it to protect themselves from their own fears and vulnerabilities...

release?... end?... I don't know... what I do know is that I do not have to give those who do not care anything... those who do not care void themselves, do not matter... my sadness over their choice is my choice, but I do not have to focus on their apathy or worse, their negativity... if someone wishes me ill, I do not have to give them what they wish...

and if I am ready to give up because I am too tired to go on (or whyever), I do not have to jump off the edge... if I am truly too tired to do anything but die then I do not have to find the energy to do something like hurt myself, even if it is for one last time... I can choose to let it be until I just let it go because all meaning is lost...

I know everything changes, even when I forget, I know... and even the worst extreme will eventually come back around... when I was at my worst and laid down to die, I know that anything is possible and the possibility that I might be alive the next day existed... the possibility that I might even be happy again did exist, no matter how unbelievable it felt at the time...

waiting for the music that saves to return so I can thank all of you who hung in and stuck around and put up with the mess I was and whatever I shall become...

and eventually, I believed... because I found myself still breathing when the emotional roller coaster of this life pulled around the hope and happiness once again...

and that worth the wait...

candora

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NOTE: Due to excessive comment SPAM, comments have been turned off... ironically, this month is the renewal for supergold membership and the comments feature... bad timing... you know how much I love feedback, so maybe there's be comments again one of these days... until then, please leave a note... thanks J




I love you all for coming... for reading all these words
for every click feels like more love (I know that sounds absurd)
if I could only tell you... one thing more tonight
I'd say
I wish you could come home with me and be my friends for life


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