There are words
others use for people like us and some of them are not kind; crazy mad solitary delusional tragic... what have you who cares. I embrace them I claim them I love them. You have to understand that just because we see the world differently than you do and perhaps have seen more enchantment and tragedy in our unusual lives than others have seen in their many peaceful years there is nothing more right or wrong with any of us than there is with anyone else. The world is different than people think there are hidden lights shadows and mysteries we remember them we see them when others forget or cannot that is all. And we write those mysteries we paint those thoughts unseen we create music from tunes we hear and feel but could never quite explain any other way and we share our world with you. And you love it you do you love our vision our passion our "weirdness" our "madness" While you shake your head at our tragic lives of "solitude" "confusion" "hard living" and "seclusion" the truth is that madness that loneliness that can never be relieved not by any amount of company it paints the paintings you see it writes the stories you read It creates every note in the songs that you love and every line that you'll sing time and again. And they say of us what a shame they are so talented and yet they never could quite fit in so troubled so tragic their story is. But that is why we create the exquisite things we do; If we ever for one minute fit into your world we would never be desperate enough to write our stories paint our pictures play our songs and attempt to share the world we see with you. Charity 2014
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AND SHE LOVED HIM FOR IT
3/31/2014 She could see him his truth his art she could see through the broken parts through the darkness and to the light that he carried deep inside and she loved him for it. Charity Nothing changes for me
as I reside inside another shimmering night the day comes and goes and it takes me through it's practiced methods of surviving this life, but then evening saunters in with a swirl of her colored cape splashing the sky with golden pink light teasing the world with a dizzying breath of beauty just before night and here I reside inside a peaceful thought of you inside a luxurious tune. I take a breath and pick up my pen again I like my alone I like my longing I like my wandering I like hiding out in a book I do and I like this sheet of paper and the way it invites my heart to reveal every desire that I would never dare say with my two lips aloud. And here I am again at days end again residing alone inside of another shimmering night. Charity 3/21/2014 I have no problem With the waiting I've grown accustomed to the wanting It’s the wondering that kills me It’s the wondering If you’re wanting And perhaps even waiting The way I do for you But love It’s not the waiting that I’m hating I would wait a forever or two The way I always have for you. No not the waiting or the wanting… It’s the wondering that kills me The ever growing never knowing Wondering if you’re wanting me still In the way I've always only ever wanted you. I found you in the early morning
lit with sun damp with dew cool like wind and distant as the other side of this world wide while I reached for you, but my hand passed though. As if you were imagined like some brilliant thought there for a moment and then there not. I loved you in the sunlight morning loved you immediately just like that, loved with a love I did not understand, loved you completely... even as you passed right through me like air like light like a fleeting kiss in a tumbling night. But for that sacred second in time You were real and you were mine. I drank your words I breathed you in and I stayed right there after you'd gone the whole day through to await your return again. Charity The quiet
Contented Peaceful knowing That we are connected Always You and I And each Of us Separate But together In a place Very much like love. Whether we say it, see it, Show it Know it Admit we feel it Or choose to reveal it; We are connected By the river Of an energy Wild and free That we Tend to call love. Charity It is true that you will often be
A current running through My work, my art, my thoughts, my heart That’s what love does though, It takes one person, one other person in this whole damn world of millions and it connects them to us in a way that no one else can ever be connected to us. And for me No one will ever be What it is you are. But that does not make me Any more Or less complete With you Or without you here. I am who I am I’ll do what I do But you Will always be A current that runs through The heart of me. ~Charity it was enough
the time and the way it trickled like beads of sweat down my skin as I left every place I’d ever been, swearing I’d be back again but I never did I never did go back. I always just kind of lost track of where I’d meant to be before the next thought the next city the next walk the next promise of something ever so much better called to me. but life doesn’t work that way forever and time trickles down our skin like beads of sweat as we run from everything and so easily forget just how much we meant to go back again. and somewhere inside we know eventually it all has to stop it all has to end and one day we’ll have to stand still long enough to remember who we are who we’ve been we can’t run forever and never stop. one day we have to stand still long enough to know ourselves long enough to maybe stay even and love somebody else. Charity It was as if somehow in that one moment I was
utterly enchanted and at peace with the extent of my darkness hiding from faces hiding from talk hiding in places no one dared walk. There's this line between being trapped within a daily routine and doing something daring and slightly life threatening that reminded me for a moment I wanted to be alive. And that moment, that line that place I walked reminded me that I ought not give up it was the fear of losing my life that gave me my life. Is that so wrong to say now looking back? Charity |
Charity Janisse
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