Rainbow Children.

Is it so necessary to like you?

Read this as if I were speaking to you in a British accent. It could be more interesting that way.

I deem it now my duty to update you on the reasons for my irregular blog posting. It should be quite evident that, at the moment, I am suffering from the all too common writer's block, and thus am struggling to produce any even half decent posts, and to that, to you, reader, I am sorry. My mind has ceased to work in collaboration with me to draw upon any kind of substance that would articulate any sort of scene or even just an idea so I could update you. Thus, once again, I'm sorry about the bland blogs, and I find myself saying that a lot, because, as a matter of fact, I don't believe that the quality of my work has at all escalated to a more sophisticated level but by the use of my trusty online thesaurus, which has helped me greatly in creating blogs in 3 hours, though they are easily read in about 5 minutes. It doesn't help when I'm completely distracted with work, msn, or just anything around me.

So I thought that maybe if I saw you in a completely different light, that is, possibly ungrace, I could convince myself that maybe you weren't all that I thought you were. You weren't some kind of amazing, absolutely brilliant person that I constantly aspire to and are inspired by... constantly. Everything that mattered to you, all your passions, your talents and skills, what of them mattered to me? And the determination I always saw in your eyes, and yet your laid-back, easy-going nature whenever you smiled and laughed, it should not affect me what-so-ever, for there is no reason why any aspect of you should have any kind of influence over how I behave, act, feel, or think.

And yet you do. However, by some divine miracle, I cannot say that my perspective is completely skewed, because in every possible view, everything I saw of you was the same. I've repeated myself, I believe, almost 1000 times over, despite what is fleeting, all that is fleeting and temporary, you are beyond amazing.

Oh golly, I really do know how to over-dramatise things, don't I? Nevertheless, it's out there, and it's done. I think you're cool, and there's nothing to it. We're cool.

But for once, just once, can we be non-biased friends?

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I was on a mountain, and I knew I could see the summit as the rays of the sun breached against the horizon. The air was thinning, and, evidently enough, so was my blood as I struggled to inhale enough oxygen that would allow my blood to circulate and warm my legs. I needed to persevere, because I was obviously almost there. The slope sneered haughtily as I slipped across the glassy surface, and its thin layer of snow crunched against my boot, as I attempted for a stable foundation on the immensely elevated angle of the mountain. Despite the chills that danced around my lips and ran up and down my spine, the boundless snow that surrounded me instantly caved in beneath me, and I felt my bones give in to the pressure of imbalance and uncertainty, landing with a cold thump in the snow, whilst the remainder of the boundless, fluffy snow decorated me with soft, wet drops.

As soon as I had fallen, I was also slipping. However, I would not allow myself to slip behind, to backslide to where I was before this point. Where I was now, so close to the summit, and yet a thousand times over, I have fallen in this same spot, even along with my desperate attempts to move. I moved so agonisingly slow that every step I took was regressed by the slip and slide of the sleet and snow. I was moving, but I wasn't fast enough to get anywhere.

I'm kind of tired, and I don't feel like continuing this analogy. I've tried enough that I don't expect more, anymore.

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I'm still a robot with a human heart. This is all still too difficult for me to understand. You can paint me pictures of the most vibrant colours in the pools of my eyes, but I will blatantly refuse to cease seeing everything in black and white. As for my Savior, please, Love, overflow from my heart, and give colour to my world.

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Golly, what a selfish blog.

LOL, Sarah.