Voice.

[witchscauldron]

When I lived at home still, there was me and my fields. There was something vast about the space - a sort of echoing emptiness that I despised and loved at the same time. I use to sing into that void to hear my voice echo against the trees and the grass, and then vanish off into the clouds. It was lonely, sometimes, but it was mine. I felt free - I could sing, I could howl, I could shout or scream or wail. I felt like I could walk off and be me, and there was no-one else to worry about. I used my Voice just for me, in those days.

I don't really use my voice, let alone my Voice, anymore. I sing, sometimes...but just around the house. It's never any sort of exhultation to the Gods anymore, to the Earth and the Sky for the sheer joy of it. I don't howl anymore. I'd like to. I'm afraid to disturb the multiple neighbours around me. I don't have a vast empty space anymore. I have a finite apartment, and too much humanity around me. There's nowhere to go anymore.

I miss my golden fields, and the russet in the trees in the sunset. I miss the way the clouds used to hang low over the fields, making me feel as if the sky was a ceiling draped in blue-grey. I miss my moonlit winter walks and giving Voice to the wolf, within and without. I crave a long walk in falling leaves. I crave picking Mutsu apples, making applesauce, drinking hot cider. I miss sitting on the steps with my Calico. I miss fireflies. I miss total darkness.

Maybe I'll go visit my Mom for a little while, and spend some time alone with myself. I don't know. I don't know anything today at all. I feel dead.

Comments

It's not the same, tho..

[morgandria.livejournal.com]

That time and space aren't mine anymore. My "home" is someone else's home now - the place I became a person in isn't where my Mother lives anymore. I can only go stay in spaces that aren't as comfortable, or as fufilling in the dream of that space. I would like to go and see my mother, watch her sew, and take some day trips. I'm not sure that I am willing to be trapped in a not-my-space space for that long, though - I get frustrated easily when I'm stuck like that. It's all contributing to the deadness. There isn't any "making better"...it's just "getting through".
-M.

Re: It's not the same, tho..

[starfallz.livejournal.com]

mm. that does suck. i guess i am lucky and my parents still live where i grew up. *wishes she could fix things for morg*