Friday, April 19, 2013

This Disembodiment


Davenport Display




My breath is white, my body curled inwards to contain the little remaining heat. 

My thoughts are filled with imaginary places, tendrils crawling in the mud of modern literature for scattered tickets to new lands.

I add them to my itinerary, sleepless and close to tears.

My own world is too vast, yet I am escaping.

To places snuggled between beginnings and ends, not furled across a labyrinth of fear and regret.

My reality sits outside of me yet it tugs at my flesh, burrowing into my bones like worms which cannot wait to feed me to the soil before my blood turns cold.

A voice echoes, circling softly around my mind.

Its words meaningless, but not letting me die.

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“As a leader... I have always endeavored to listen to what each and every person in a discussion had to say before venturing my own opinion. Oftentimes, my own opinion will simply represent a con-sensus of what I heard in the discussion. I always remember the axiom: a leader is like a shepherd. He stays behind the flock, letting the most nimble go out ahead, whereupon the others follow, not realizing that all along they are being directed from behind.”
~ Nelson Mandela