Distance (ccj) wrote in tornpaper,

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What I can't see outside of my window.

It's so cold outside.  I wish i could see out my window, past all of this rain.  Or maybe that the cold would drop... just a few more degrees so this disaster could turn into something beautiful, and I could find hope in this nervousness somewhere.  It's a bad feeling.  To be stuck inside, looking through a window you can't see anything out of for any sign of something good or beautiful.  Much like my anticipation.  You never know what will ebcome of you.  You're always in such a thick foggy haze, looking through every fragment life lays in front of you, trying to see past them, looking for a sign of light.  Some sign of hope, or something to reach for.  I suppose i could say every one fo these drops of rain is a different worry in my head.  They fall so fast and thick, I can't see if my expectations could be met on the other side.  It's circumstances like these that set up days where i know nothing will go my way.  I know in all probability I'll be disappointed again.  But still I sit here, staring out of my window at the wall thick layer of rain falling outside.  It's quite nervewrecking if I may say so.  Your brain will form little patterns out of the rain drops, so you always thought you saw something, but you never really do.  So the question I suppose I'm hinting at... is should I sit here... wishful and hopeful of what I really want... or should I give into the pessimistic probability that I'll be let down, and give up, and turn away from this window.  As painful as it is to sit and stare through it, I know my ambitions are on the other side. 

I suppose if things were to fail... it would be for the better? Right?  Knowing she'd never do anything to upset me, but as well as i know, she puts he mind elsewhere often.  She's so spontaneous, she often times forgets to think things through in all of the excitement.  But I believe if she sat down and thought about it, her choice would be the same.  Even if in the order it should be, second place always feels like last.  Because you don't know how bad it feels to be third, and you're always reaching out for first.  It's always such a far reach.  Then again, I would probably have to believe Einstein when he commented that "God doesn't roll dice."  That is of course if I were sure that there is a God.  I wonder sometimes.  But that doesn't affect my belief in fate.  That things will work out the way they should given the choices you make.  Much like if I choose to sit here, staring out of this window until my expectations are met, If fate has it that it should happen, I would sit there until it did happen.  Yet if it did not happen, I would sit there until tired of it, and i would remove myself from the position, or I would sit there all day, unveiling no sign of a reward, but for some purpose i would later figure out.  Nothing is trivial.  It all plays part in a bigger role. 

Still, I think I would rather have my way this time. As unlikely as it is.  If I don't I know better things were needed to be tended to, but I suppose maybe I'm just getting tired.  A heart can only be put off for so long, you know?  I think mine is getting close to its quota.

So today I will sit here.  I'll stare through this pannel glass, making pictures of the worries that are raindrops.  I'll animate my expectations in these worries, and if these expectations are not met, I have them in my head to play over and over, and I'll trick myself into believeing they did.   I wont get my hopes up, and I'll stay pessimistic on the subject.  I'll tie a rock onto these hopes, and so if they cannot go up, they cannot fall down.  But wishes and hopes are not the same.  In my head, I will replay over and over, my wish that my ambitions may come forth though this rain, and I may see hope outside of my window.



Sorry for any abundance of typos.

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