(no subject)
I feel like a disaster...in the midst of the whirl-wind my life is proving to be...I find beauty. Beauty in the breaking. There is clutter in my room, in my space...I step over it failing to address it...I acknowledge it's there but the time isn't right to clear the path. I just tip-toe and shuffle around it. There is no time. No time to address the mess.
Sometimes I can feel my body stop...just stop. No one else can see it, but I feel it. Rather than an action it's just a sweet thought. I get tired and I fall short of much that I want to accomplish. The rooms spins even more so as the stack of books scatters further into the pile of clothes...it's a disaster...beautiful...but still stirred.
Sometimes I can feel my body stop...just stop. No one else can see it, but I feel it. Rather than an action it's just a sweet thought. I get tired and I fall short of much that I want to accomplish. The rooms spins even more so as the stack of books scatters further into the pile of clothes...it's a disaster...beautiful...but still stirred.