angel's wings and breakdowns

it's just one of those nights. one of those times when the night is dark and the clouds obscure. one of those moments when your strength and your weakness duke it out and it ends a draw. one of those instances when you know you're on the cusp of change; if not change, action. this is the noun before the verb.

and in the gentle voice in the background, somebody sings that there's beauty in the breakdown. but more importantly, the voices whisper that the passion is well-painted but that you suspect impersonation. and it's a little of column a and a little bit of column b.

as i said to my friend yesterday, november will either by stunning or drowning. i could have a new role, new funding for the rest of my work, a new excitement for my research, and a person to share all of this with. or i could have none of them. and it's so hard not to get built up- the possibilities so rich and real and within grasp. but the fall so hard, leaving you clumsy and slightly drunk with unsteadiness.

and for now there is only this moment. so i'll forge on and wait to see if the verb is flying or sinking. here's praying for angel's wings but humming that there's beauty in the breakdown...

"Excuse me too busy
Writing your your tragedy
These mishaps you bubble-wrap
When you've no idea what you're like

So let go, So let go, jump in
Oh well what you waiting for
It's alright
'Cos there's beauty in the breakdown"

. . .