How do you come alive in a world full of sorrow and sadness and how do you sit each day and allow what you feel through the surface of your skin seep from your fingertips and how do you expect to make it happen and what is it anyway and why are you like you are and what did it take to get there and why do we say yes, let’s have tea and then never make a date and why do we say, yes, I can show for you and then never do and what do our promises mean if we don’t keep them and is it possible for our actions to support the words that come tumbling from our lips and is there a secret button somewhere that we can press that will pause this moment so that I can stay here, on my bed, gazing out the window at the blue sky and the morning sun with my sleepy dog and my purring cat and I hope one day that I can bottle this feeling of stillness up and in these moments I rejoice in my aloneness and sometimes I imagine someone witnessing this moment of solitude like in a movie or a still photograph and then i wonder if that is my ego or my curiosity or if they are the same thing and I wonder if we can be invisible because sometimes I feel so and I wonder how it is we can be so and how do other writers write each day and do they wrestle like I do and does shit like this coming flying out and before the downward spiral can catch me, his back legs starts to twitch and I lay my hand on his warm body and leave it there until the twitching stops and all I can think of is everything and I wish there was a librarian on duty in my brain today so that she could put everything away and prepare only what I need to see today and I know in my heart the thing about all the things is that it isn’t organized but it does take practice to ease the panic of not getting everything all done at once and this could go on for days and so I’ll stop here and I know there has to be another way for me to step into this place I just haven’t figured it out yet.


One thought on “Chatter

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