With Musical Influence

Today is going to be the best day of my life.

I’ll tell you when.

The reason I’m writing today is more serious that that tone could ever amount to. I find that the longer I try to see what I do know, the more I crave to see what I am lacking. Begging the question “what am I waiting for,” I guess the answer is “nothing”. I’m not waiting at all, actually, just surviving today on what amounts to the works of a change in the atmosphere agreeable with the meanings of surreptitious mountaintop hollering “I am knowing of my infallibility and recognize that I am actually fallible.”

Where I choose to ride along with my thoughts, it does cause me to feel like I am somewhere, deep down, quite mad. Time flies by at an alarming pace. It’s an epitome of the source of all someone yearns for: “slow down the rate at which I am aging”.

While I don’t often give in to the soulless days of signalled truth, I do find I am quite apprehensive to the traits of the dreams I am chasing. Simply put, I am giving in to those dreams. I know that I am chasing something, soulless or otherwise, to stop the endless wandering I feel when falling through the gaps of minutes passing.

You might wonder how these itineraries amount to where I am today. I wouldn’t dare put the experiences I have had to a lower standard than those who, while curious, truly don’t understand sometimes my stance on life.

There is no means to give up my “sins” today. Even though I attribute most of my folly to the things I have done, my experiences tend to dictate that all we feel is a camera lens focused microscopically on our and my words of today, and tomorrow. Will I change further, when put behind the flames of the choices made in desire and ease of repetition? I wish it wasn’t so, but today it is true that tonight, I will be gone from the troubles of today, and tomorrow the day will come, the day that will be, as earlier stated, the best day of my life. If only it would stay.

I fight the break of dawn, because those survival mechanisms have taught me that tomorrow’s worry will be the same as yesterday and thereafter – will I be gone tomorrow? Will I exist behind the mask that I wear each day, or is this silence through my head ever going to count for the words I have said over and over: “I will get better”?

Perhaps there are more questions here than answers – every sky above knows my heart through the clouds of it’s vastness miles. There’s a future in prayer, and candles are waiting for the match to light them. You can’t stay here in silence, but you also can’t expect it to tell you that the voice will leave you alone for more than the speechless days could amount to in your future.

Everything can be different if you do it better than you wanted to, but we all know the end of the story. We’ve heard enough of the straight steered horses to see that there is a pleasure in betting on the winning one. Perhaps the game is this, how long can you go before you decide to cool off and realize your worth, instead of just riding straight out of the troubles without ever having to look back?

Some people are naturally drawn to different talents. Some think they are visionaries, some believe in a greater good for themselves and others, and these people have gotten to where they are because they sought a similar goal as you. You will get there too. It’s a cold place when you’re just escaping the sleepless nights and dreary mornings with nothing more to your name than the name itself. But you’ll be alright.

I’m going to end this note with a toast to yesterday’s items collected in a dusty box – out of the dark, and into the light, when the time comes to change, you will still be the same.

Tomorrow.