down by the river foreign waters flow...

    once upon a time i was sitting in chapel, happy that the lover of the terrible unknown terror was there yet her counter part was nowhere in sight. my mind rested, within reason, and i tried to reign my attention to what is going on when all of a sudden the terrible monster appears and starts rubbing her back with his claws; i sit and watch my blood run down the sloped floor as i thank God for the people that stood in front of me to block my view, the gallant and unknowing tall men helped stop up the blood just a bit...
     as the entire congregation sat down i was happy once again that people blocked my view; being fidgety and taking note of most everything going on is terrible curse when you are avoiding looking at something.
as people shift and fidget about i notice his scrawny arm wrapped around her sloped shoulders, then again nothing matches the slope in his poor form. my ornery streak wishes for a sling shot or at the very least to march up to him at some point in time and say 'i hope you feel your hands wringing my neck when you do that. yeah i don't have feelings for you and you do not have any for me, but you should know what you're doing. go ahead. strangle me while my eyes burn into your mind forever.'
     constantly wondering if they really understand anything at all, not that her understanding matters as long as she can be comfortable in the same room with me.
     yet as i hold the blood in it begins to dry up.
     my mind always grows weary of thinking such things. 

     once the service ends i'm out in the fresh air settling into my thoughts...
     the monster becomes less contemptible and turns into shadows as him and his dark deeds are nowhere to be found.

     no need to be Beowulf here.
     the best thing about such thoughts is that once my mind says 'that's enough, hardness has played its part. come back to life not so terribly vivid and dark.'

     the air cleanses me.

     the sun touches my face.

     ...and i smile as i know 'yes, you believe all of those things but it is not you to think them. it is not you. this terrible mindset is not a part of you no matter how much it tries to impose... no matter how much you believe or don't believe what terrible things come out of your subconscious and into your stream of thought, you can rest by the riverside with the knowledge that after all, you're still you.'

     all of those things, thinking of the monstrous murderer and all of the raw contempt that seeps upward...

that's still not me.

     ...and for that i am eternally grateful.





-edit-
...unintentional wording i later realized are also part of a song...

...makes me smile quite a bit, how those words unknowingly found their way into this post.
God, you love to sing this to me...
and You have taught nature to sing the melody.