Thoughts From Another Time Zone

The little book that sits a top of my vanity. The book that has always been there for me, even when no one else was. The book that seems to call out my name, and says come write, you will always feel better.

When you believe everything it all over; the process starts again. The book will forever hold my thoughts. The thoughts of a love that could never exist; no matter how much you wish for it; for the sweet mother everyone was supposed to have; for the father that should always protect you from your worst nightmares, and for the lover that is the one you never wanted. You write all these things down, yet you could never speak these things aloud.

The thing is with this your thoughts are never fully finished. Then again when will they ever completely be together.

This little book has been there through the nightmare-like times, and the best of times. This book is just a little black spiral. This little book, to must, looks like a worn-out, black plastic spiral that has seen its time of water damage. The pages corners have started to turn up, and on the cover it says,      ‘Hope when all is lost, just write.’ These simple words have helped through the times of where it feels like I am asphyxiating; that no matter I do, I can never get out of this void of agony.

In this book I have written thoughts no one ever wants to read. This book is something no one will ever get to see. This book lives and breathes my thoughts between its crisp pages. The pages that have multi colored writing. The pages that have begun to fade with age. The pages that write stories from a completely different part of my life; that some would say has made me the person I am today. That person is someone who fears the Lord and knows the differences between right and wrong.

This little book will soon be gone within the passing years. some wonder why you would throw it away if it has done so much for you. The reason being with its ink smeared pages and stories from another world that I wish would vanish completely out of sight. The book may still have a little meaning, but it is time to start writing a new chapter. A chapter that will actually go with the multi colored pen markings, and one that will  have tears of joy rather than the scarred marks of sadness.

The small, simple, black spiral will forever hold the dark, eerie thoughts of a different time zone. A time zone that should have never truly been a reality.

Author's Note

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