My mind has been mush lately. I have to ask myself, why am I so scared of the truth? And then, why am I so scared of being myself?
I just want to run and run and run. I want to listen to music, nice and loud, so loud that everything but my ears stops working for a while. And maybe it’s just because I grew up in the 80s but I want to stop making sense. I want to make delicious, textured, colorful no sense. So much no sense that all the no sense gets out, on the page, on the floor, on the ground.
I just want to let go. I want to stop being perceived so I have no more influences, no one to be in front of. So I can just be. I’ve always liked talking and listening better in the dark. There is so much more space. I want more space. I want less filters. I want no editor. I want nothing crafted, nothing well thought out, I want forgiveness, I want instinct and strawberries and sand and water. I want to want what I want. Without thinking it is wrong.
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2 comments:
Feel like I could have written that myself! I hope I get to see you this summer....maybe we can hang out in the dark....
Dark night, cool porch, cold beer, old friend. Sounds great.
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