Some days I don’t know what to say. I wish I could find words but they seem hidden from me.
I am a blank slate. I hate everything I put on paper. Wait, this isn’t paper…
I decided to detox facebook for a few days. My brain feels like mush. I probably made it that way. All the filling with crap, random stuff that doesn’t do me any good.
I hate feeling like crusty things build up, plaque, gross stuff that I can’t think or breathe around. Sometimes it takes a pick-ax to get through to the other side.
I’ve been writing a lot about opening up my eyes, but sometimes I feel like I go through life with my eyes shut 90% of the time.
Then it hits me, how fast this is all over. Life. You blink and it’s done.
Writing (especially poetry) freezes time, captures moments, slows it all down a bit.
Slowly.
Slowly, now.
I have to write all these paragraphs to dig beneath to what is really there. I feel the pain in this. In exposing the things I had forgotten. Or never learned.
I close my eyes and picture a moment. Or really a thousand moments. Mostly in foreign lands.
I need to reflect. I need to connect.
I need to capture the moment, I feel the need to post on facebook and get the instant gratification of knowing someone cares about some inane moment of my day.
Because I want to share the moment with people, in order to validate my existence.
I want to feel connected to my imaginary community.
So I go online. Everyone is doing something different with their lives. Everyone else is having an adventure. Everyone else is having babies.
Everyone else.
I can’t live like that. I can’t. I can’t compare. I can’t feel like I am running behind. It’s a sure way to be miserable, to wish my life away.
I write poetry to slow down and to know that I can be content.
That I don’t have to live in anxiety. In discontentment.
Because I can stop and see what’s next to me,
(Close your eyes, think of all you have beside you.- Katie Herzig)
I can be happy.
I am happy.
I have all I need.
(This is what I wanted.)
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