Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Waiting Room

i can't be here. i cant breath. they suffocate me.
those were her words. they seemed incredible and impossible. she was living a life she wanted. the life of an artists. she had twenty four hours a day to create what she adored most. she had all the possible time to spend devoted to her art. she suffered an inner torment that should have been unbearable, yet it was more than bearable. it was nothingness passing through with the wind. her inner torment just left a feeling of having been as the aroma of the flowers touches the subconscious while walking through the park and it seems overwhelming but it diffuses in the air. her problem, however, was not said torment that drove her creativity. what she suffered was from a more intrinsic nature. so she chose to run. to move away once again. to escape. she needed to make it work and distance was the only answer. it was a difficult choice even more so to accomplish. it will be done, however. she could not live in the present manner. she was surviving feeding on knowing that everyday was one less she had to be there. she was only waiting to depart that is why she was there. it was her waiting room. her stop on the way to greatness.


©Copyrighted 2009

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