White Horse Theory Part IV- 1997
Hello you! Yes, you. I was standing here in DISTRESS and well, being a chick and all I was wondering, questioning, could you put on some armor and come down from your tower for a moment and humor me?
I really don’t ask much. Some simple dragon slaying. Tiny, harmless, mind dragons really and well normally I would tell you to let me handle it, but if you could just once maybe twice save me from myself. I don’t care if the slipper of sand fits; I will walk in it, or you don’t have to bring that even. Just some armor, some safety. Please, I don’t care if, helmets do get in the way I just need some of your grace to ride on for a moment… and… Is that all I want? SAFETY… stop you wimp— shine on armor. Well, I have my own. Assembly required. And it has come to this. Me trying to find some hair to throw down– anything and say hello. Please, I know you have armor. Just use it. Come down from your tower and help me with mine. You must want to the script called for it.
You see… I started out standing on this pedestal. I built for myself. It was abhoridly beautiful and as I went I started climbing down to the true place of my beginning. Now, on hands and knees, weak in my own way, begging– you can’t see me, but this is where we both began.
So maybe it is not the armor I want. Helmets do get in the way. The safety of understanding… coaxing you (trying) out of your tower; leaning to far out of my element, out of my dome like, realistically fake bubble world.
But I don’t care at this point reason [I cling to] has never done more than become one of my largest dragons and no knight can defeat it; for most of the time I find myself fighting against you for it [for me i used to think]. Now it has become a voracious monster of my own making.
I turn to the door to run… I can’t so now I ask for help; listening to my cat in shining armor cry in her (my) defense. I promise to fight on my own side this time. If you could trust that more than I do the belief would take hold. I am not asking anymore. I am just sitting in the rain. The water washes drips down from hair– to eyelashes– then cheeks. I could do this, I am not weak, only tired of fighting myself and anyone who dares to knock on the castle doors.
Pound! I am no Princess! I am no Princess… I am simply a me with pieces of everything barging in at every breath. Only pieces, pieces and I want wholes, alls, everything, oceans endless. Not forever, not eternity. The Infinite is not to be gift wrapped and waiting for me at my door. For we are everything and everything else is us. Endless that is the infinity; we are the pieces.
I am no Princess! That is my reply, I am no Princess.