cycle bespeckled It seems this is a cycle that never ends. love, then hate, then forget, then love again ... not love but an unhealthy fascination, ("a temporary infatuation," said once the naive thing with the broken_heart and dreams of crushes that crumbled to dust under another's spiky high heel), a damaging addiction, an inappropriate interest and desire. This cycle will break me down to tears and vulnerability, as those high heeled shoes tug you along by your tie. 020820 ... ( ... ) cycles can level off.. i've read, but do i understand? 020822 ... bespeckled and yet the cycle begins again, and turns and churns in just one day. You make me laugh, you make me happy, you make me optimisitic, then you make me doubtful, you make me angry, you make me sad, and regretful. And once again, you make me feel_so_foolish But you'll lift me up again, maybe and fly me high. And I'll be happy, for awhile. Until the high heeled shoes return. And you'll be gone. And I'll be dead. 020823 ... Lime Rider try to stop the cycle at love. can it ever be stopped? brrr... my conservative mind shivers at the thought of cycles. And the progressive mind turns on and on. To a 'better' love? 021021 ... amy new peaking fading old regurgitating new 021215 ... raze let_me_in let_me_know when_it's_over let_it_go 130222 ... insouciant In front of me the sun sets behind a mountain with sharp peaks that seem to cut into the sky itself. Sloping down from the mountain are grasslands lush with vibrant shades of green. Miles beyond is a long beach with white crashing waves. All unique topologies providing their own sense of comfort and serenity. Tilting my head up from the brilliant colors on the horizon I can barely make out the stars against a dimming backdrop of blue. The veil of daylight will soon be lifted, revealing twinkling dreams caught in an infinite web. From this lofty perch I sit and observe and appreciate each aspect of my privileged view. Few, if any, could see what I get to experience every day of my life. I retreat here for perspective, or so I tell myself. From here I can see the landscape that makes up my life, but it is merely an observation point. It sits over the edge of a path i have forgotten how to traverse. Every time i try to walk it and return to where I can experience the places where I belong, i seem to lose my sense of direction. I wander placing one foot in front of the other one step at a time, assuming that I am walking forward, but always ending back here. After trying and failing again and again i have had to make camp here. Night after night I have slept here, feeling unsheltered, unseen, and alone. This will never be my home but unfortunately it has become familiar. Familiarity breeds comfort. Will I ever find a way out of this cycle? 220910 what's it to you? who go blather from