Milton
[If you're wondering, I google searched it. I found that this poet named John Milton wrote a poem called 'Paradise Lost'. I thought that meant this name would suit this deer. Anyways. That's your background for the name.]
I am lost.
Swirling in a sea
of self doubt
lost, yet again lost
high on top of the
highest cloud
lost, as I will be forever
feeling the two extremes
knowing the only way out
is down
Or maybe not. Maybe the way out is up. Maybe there's no way out at all. Maybe I'm stuck here, in the circus, forever. I wasn't always in this circus. No, not always. Or maybe I always was. In the circus, up is down and down is up. You cannot possibly tell the difference between anything. Because maybe it's something else. Maybe you're something else. Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this. I love that quote. If it's a quote. I heard it once, a long time ago. And I did not come up with it, so I suppose it is a quote.
Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this.
If this is a dream, it's not a very good one. I'd switch dreams if I could. But if this is really a dream, and if we're really just dreaming this, then I guess I'd have to swich lives. That would be a welcome escape. Anything would be a welcome escape. I'd take it, too, if I wasn't so scared that the second I switched dreams, everything would be better. And then I'd have missed out, I'd have quit on the wrong thing. I'd watch the beautiful dream turn to dust. Even though it's not beautiful now. Even though I can't breathe.
Oh. It's fading...
It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining. It's beautiful. I'm so happy I can't contain it all. I couldn't possibly. There's thoughts flitting through my brain at a million miles an hour and I'm happy. Why should I tell anyone the secret? I mean, there's not one, I'm so happy there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with me. I'm so stupid for thinking such a thing. I'm exaggerating, I always do.
Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this.
Bad times? What bad times? There's no such thing. I don't need any help whatsoever, thank you very much. I can't even comprehend the fact that I thought I did. How stupid I was. Look at the sky, the birds. Look how perfect it all is. It's perfect. Life is perfect, life is good. That's a slogan for cell phones, I know this much from my spot in the circus. LG. Life's Good. Smile. (: Life's amazing, you'd have to be stupid to throw this gift away.
Look at the sun! The birds. The beauty. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. This is a beautiful dream.
Oh. It's fading...
I don't know what I am anymore. What am I? What is this circus? I'm fine. No. I'm not anymore. Am I? I'd say this is a beautiful day, but it's ugly too. I'm feeling so much right now. Embracing both extremes. Wait. I'm not embracing them. They are embracing me. No. Yes. No. Maybe.
What? Why is this happening to me? Why isn't this happening to everyone else?
What's wrong with me? What's wrong with the rest of them? I'd throw this dream away if I could, but maybe I won't. Should I? Could I? Would I? Yes. No. Maybe. What is this place? I can't breathe anymore, but maybe I can. I'm drowning in my own confusion. Lost, yet still found possibly, in this sea of doubt.
Oh. It's fading...
But it's not.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Key
highs
lows
both
poetry
My note: It's been a while. Anyways, this deer's contrasting colors, the light and dark, and they reminded me of something. These stupid emotional highs and lows I always have, for no reason. So I decided I needed to write about that, and here it is. I wrote the poem at the beginning, it's free verse. The quote: Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this, is something a friend of mine said once. Anyways. All of this was written based on my own emotional experiences. I tried transforming it into a deer voice, but I don't think it worked well. It is written choppily on purpose. Enjoy?
[If you're wondering, I google searched it. I found that this poet named John Milton wrote a poem called 'Paradise Lost'. I thought that meant this name would suit this deer. Anyways. That's your background for the name.]
I am lost.
Swirling in a sea
of self doubt
lost, yet again lost
high on top of the
highest cloud
lost, as I will be forever
feeling the two extremes
knowing the only way out
is down
Or maybe not. Maybe the way out is up. Maybe there's no way out at all. Maybe I'm stuck here, in the circus, forever. I wasn't always in this circus. No, not always. Or maybe I always was. In the circus, up is down and down is up. You cannot possibly tell the difference between anything. Because maybe it's something else. Maybe you're something else. Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this. I love that quote. If it's a quote. I heard it once, a long time ago. And I did not come up with it, so I suppose it is a quote.
Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this.
If this is a dream, it's not a very good one. I'd switch dreams if I could. But if this is really a dream, and if we're really just dreaming this, then I guess I'd have to swich lives. That would be a welcome escape. Anything would be a welcome escape. I'd take it, too, if I wasn't so scared that the second I switched dreams, everything would be better. And then I'd have missed out, I'd have quit on the wrong thing. I'd watch the beautiful dream turn to dust. Even though it's not beautiful now. Even though I can't breathe.
Oh. It's fading...
It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining. It's beautiful. I'm so happy I can't contain it all. I couldn't possibly. There's thoughts flitting through my brain at a million miles an hour and I'm happy. Why should I tell anyone the secret? I mean, there's not one, I'm so happy there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with me. I'm so stupid for thinking such a thing. I'm exaggerating, I always do.
Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this.
Bad times? What bad times? There's no such thing. I don't need any help whatsoever, thank you very much. I can't even comprehend the fact that I thought I did. How stupid I was. Look at the sky, the birds. Look how perfect it all is. It's perfect. Life is perfect, life is good. That's a slogan for cell phones, I know this much from my spot in the circus. LG. Life's Good. Smile. (: Life's amazing, you'd have to be stupid to throw this gift away.
Look at the sun! The birds. The beauty. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. This is a beautiful dream.
Oh. It's fading...
I don't know what I am anymore. What am I? What is this circus? I'm fine. No. I'm not anymore. Am I? I'd say this is a beautiful day, but it's ugly too. I'm feeling so much right now. Embracing both extremes. Wait. I'm not embracing them. They are embracing me. No. Yes. No. Maybe.
What? Why is this happening to me? Why isn't this happening to everyone else?
What's wrong with me? What's wrong with the rest of them? I'd throw this dream away if I could, but maybe I won't. Should I? Could I? Would I? Yes. No. Maybe. What is this place? I can't breathe anymore, but maybe I can. I'm drowning in my own confusion. Lost, yet still found possibly, in this sea of doubt.
Oh. It's fading...
But it's not.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Key
highs
lows
both
poetry
My note: It's been a while. Anyways, this deer's contrasting colors, the light and dark, and they reminded me of something. These stupid emotional highs and lows I always have, for no reason. So I decided I needed to write about that, and here it is. I wrote the poem at the beginning, it's free verse. The quote: Maybe we're dead and we're just dreaming this, is something a friend of mine said once. Anyways. All of this was written based on my own emotional experiences. I tried transforming it into a deer voice, but I don't think it worked well. It is written choppily on purpose. Enjoy?
𖧧
