i have to write, of what i don't even know. this week i have felt suppressed, and even now, i cannot talk to you because i don't know how i feel, and i don't know how i feel until i've written. and there is this therapy in the written word, in the meaning and authority that the sprawling symbols give, all black on white, filling up the spaces with finality.
tonight, i had to be alone. these cavities in life i am always seeking to fill with alone. i cannot say why, or even how the peace fills me as soon as i rest here, on this bed in this quiet, lovely space. how the itunes opens, always to ray lamontagne or mat kearney or citizen cope, and some spoken word that connects with something i feel deep inside will fill my ears for the hundredth time, and the emotions, old and fresh will come again.
do i spend too much of myself here? i wonder why on a friday night this is all i can handle. why on a friday night at dinner my mind is already running to this space in time where i can be alone.
here, i pour out what builds up, what i don't recognize until now. how quiet i've kept my soul all week, how alone it has been inside my head. how i've been afraid to hear even my voice. but i cannot speak, the words are not lined up yet.
i think it is the overwhelming weight and weariness of what must be worked through, decided upon, walked on, that stops me. i feel un-ready to go there, so i don't. but if i cannot open the spaces of my mind to chose and speak to me of what's inside, i experience more being lost than i can take.
i stop again to look at what inspires me so endlessly, these mediums of light- photography and word and string and bow and taste and smell and glow, so glorious because they open me up farther and wider, and i feel closer to the one day when i'll stand so completely wide and bare in the whole embrace of high and low, all revel in the joy.
i have no one train of thought for now, and perhaps thats okay. tomorrow, there will be more time. to live, and soak and breathe out and taste something sweet and warm. to touch keys till the truth escapes me and i can watch things become focused and clear.
dreamworld.
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