Static Noise
There was a time I cherished the alone times, with myself, with my mind, with a pen and a paper and all the answers unraveling before me in words. Lately I've been feeling overwhelemd by thoughts and emotions, neither any of which I'm committing to. I cannot explain the sense of being overwhelmed by things you can't define (not explain, define, as in name). It's like knowing there is noise outside, screaming, or yelling, crying or laughing, alarms and sirens, and it sounds like chaos, and the noise is so loud and consuming, but all you want to do is sleep, so you put your pillow over your head and try to block out all the noise. Though you can still hear it in the back, you cannot make out distinct words or definitive noises. I can feel my stomach rumbling with thoughts and emotions, about what or whom I cannot tell. It would require rummaging through a second hand thrift store of junk for a treasurable item, which may in the end not even be worth it.
Occasionally if I must stop and think, I think about the reasons I can no longer face myself. I am like a boiling pot and the water is at the edges. I simmer down the flame to keep from gushing, but scooping out even a single spoon of pasta will cause an overflow. And maybe I should overflow, but I just can't. I hope you're excusing the excessive use of metaphors. Sometimes it seems I must explain things to myself or another a couple of times outloud before it comes together into a coherent idea. Other times it seems there are simply no words to express. But as silence doesn't suit me (too hot a cover for the summer) I for a lack of better solutions, try nevertheless. I at least, if no one less, will understand. That's something, right?
Occasionally if I must stop and think, I think about the reasons I can no longer face myself. I am like a boiling pot and the water is at the edges. I simmer down the flame to keep from gushing, but scooping out even a single spoon of pasta will cause an overflow. And maybe I should overflow, but I just can't. I hope you're excusing the excessive use of metaphors. Sometimes it seems I must explain things to myself or another a couple of times outloud before it comes together into a coherent idea. Other times it seems there are simply no words to express. But as silence doesn't suit me (too hot a cover for the summer) I for a lack of better solutions, try nevertheless. I at least, if no one less, will understand. That's something, right?