The quote from Olga Dies Dreaming, the book I recently funished, really hits me to my core. "...even people who were once your sails, can become your anchors." It's like I'm constantly waiting for the anchors to throw themselves overboard and bring me down with them.

A ringing in the ears

Uncanny, yet a resemblance to white noise

Or the needles pinning your legs after sitting for too long

When confronted with the idea of failure,

our minds can easily develop a craving for clarity,

A thirst to flip the shame and misunderstanding into a

Reality we can comprehend.

A realm of anarchy blends together as the answers we seek are lost into an abyss

Paralysis sinks into our nervous systems like venom into our veins

We beg for amnesia, hoping these drowning feelings of failure and inadequacies dissipate

Through it all we learn to shed the lingering confusion to accept that failure is never the end

It's not a black hole trapping us

It's the beginning of a brighter journey

Enhanced by the our experiences

There's a dense void at the center of my chest. I can feel each thread of my inner being - my emotions, my fears, my desires - be pulled into this void's core. As if it believed itself to have divine right to rule over these abstract pillars I claimed as my own. The sensation feels like a cave in caused purely by the relenting force of gravity.

All I can do is watch the threads reel themselves to their new place of residence.

As they shift and swirl, I still have to deal with the external physical world. The somewhat menial tasks taking me through each hour dissolving into the following day. As statuesque as I was watching the components of my soul be pulled away from me, we are just statues watching each second advance forward. Not maliciously, but without regard for anything but its goal: ceasing to exist, only to be reborn into the next moment in time. Only to be fade away as instantly as it arrived.

Yet in each second that passes me by, I find myself thinking about you. The shape of your eyes, the curvature of your profile, the slight hint of goofiness in your laugh. I've never experienced anything that can relate to the phenomenon. How can my heart be so poised to attack while neglecting its defenses? From the instant you came into view, even behind the glass of your window, I could see your gentile smile clear as day and I could hear my heart plunk and hit the floor so intelligent and fierce. Determined and with a fire spawned by the mixture of resiliency and relentlessness.

I was captive to every second being born again and again hoping time would suddenly creep into a crawl and I could continue to have a view of those deep intellectual and serious brown eyes which are only in competition with your infectious smile.