for she who free falls...

its tiring. chasing after change. thats our pet malaise. the transient intrigues us and constancy, well constancy just sits there like a lump.
like a dog chasing after its tail, we run around rabid circles loving our unhappiness.
i read something interesting today," when adults say 'forever', they just mean for a really long time". 'forever', isnt that a formidable word?
i know what it is like to be stuck in a rut, to sit there and watch the world go by and let the grime and dust coat your skin.
when one door shuts, she opens another, when one fails her, she leans on another; in all this shutting and opening of doors, the walls have grown bare, mouldy and the decay has set in. the circles under her eyes dont hide the madness in them. she is restless and has begun to wear an expression of fatigue, when she does not look haunted. she is a beautiful woman, she still is... i can see that the fall has begun, a leap into an endless void. i love this woman, but i stand by and watch as she free falls.
is it possible to fall in love with unhappiness? wouldn't self preservation kick in at some point in this trajectory? meanwhile, one day slips into another and the greys seem indistinct and hazy and we chase that elusive idea just over the rainbow...