insight...

...And I realized, lying in bed early one morning waiting to go to sleep, how many times in the spaces between my voices that Kat - Normal Kat - had whispered, "I want to go home." With a touch of heartbreak I knew that although I had a house to live in, I couldn't call anywhere home until I'd found a home in myself. And I had a long way to go before I was at rest in my own body, and a mind that had turned against me. For how could anyone be comfortable while waging a war that was destroying themselves, whlie knowing that only utter destruction could bring a wholeness into their heart? A cruel irony, senseless in it's berevity, and one I swear to carry through.

Thought, (and you may see I'm long-winded in my pen) I doubt my strength to finish with this war. Is it possible for a mere girl to bring her own hand and mind to collapse upon itself in order to rebuild? For who could bring themselves to the brink of death by thier own will? Surely not I, courage runs through others' weins but mine own are void of it. I cower, choosing instead to hide within sleep. (And where is she? I cannot fall to rest.)

Hiding seems to be my forte, a skill I've honed with endless fear. And even now the demon stalks me, striking when the voices reach their height and I retreat, stranded in the wildfire of their words. I know the power of words as well as their shortcomings. Words become feeble as a physicle weapon, yet sharp in their own right.

Alas my nightly writings beg to cease, so I drop my pen in search of Lady Sleep.

-Thursday July 27th 2006
a midnight story
hammer on my writers block
imperfect (!) as it is
a night cap, perhaps?