03.24.01
God help you if you are the phoenix
I have seen what I want. The tourmented, hurt, empowering gaze of Joseph Feinnes. The beauty he holds in his face, the promise of art he has in his eyes. But I look in the mirror and see ugly. Someone as beautiful as him wouldn't love me. Perhaps this is a problem I have. Bringing people down to my level. Thinking I know them because I see them bear a little piece of their soul by acting out a role.
I wish I could be in 16th century England. I wish I could be in Ancient Rome. Sometimes I wish I could be in any other time but now. Any time that had something to fight for, to love for, to live for, to die for. Instead of preparing for nothing. Instead of living like the end of the world isn't coming before my death. When there was a reason to have children, when there was a reason to. . . I don't know. Some reason. Instead of overpopulation and starvation and people who are trapped and people whom modern technology has kept alive. But by Mother Nature's rules shouldn't be alive. But humans have become stronger than Mother Nature, at least temporarily. And have tried to slay her and silence her.
I am one of the people who shouldn't be alive. Weakened eye sight. Weakened health when I was small. I should have been weeded out of the reproductive system long before it ever came to my generation. I wish I was a child of the phoenix. I wish I was the phoenix, but I am too weak.
I wish I travelled through time like Pilgrim. I wish I remembered my past lives. I wish life was really as romantic as I feel it is this second in time. I wish I had someone who could share this romantic ideal with me. I wish Joseph Feinnes would walk down the street tomorrow and see me and fall in love with me.
Sometimes I don't know what I wish. I don't wish for a man, not to fulfill me. I hate the portrayal of a woman as completely dependant on men to make them happy. Because that won't make them happy, not always, not forever. And everyone assumes that's what every girl is looking for, and doesn't believe you when you say you're not. But I'm not. That's not what I need. What I need is the company of people who understand me. What I need is to see inside someone's soul that I've never seen before. To see that there are still beautiful people who exist. To see something that gives me a new perspective on the same gray days I've seen a hundred times. That's what I want. Not someone who brings me flowers or pays for super or makes me jelous or cares about names or gets jelous or goes for my belt buckle as soon as we kiss or who cares about who iniated what and who wants who more or who cares too much or not enough about the past. All these fickle things that everyone else seems to be looking for. I fear I've forgotten how to look any deeper. Peace.
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