(no subject)
I long to be here.There has been a shift in my heart, and this little fluorescent tomb has lost the last of its wonders for me. I no longer care. Yesterday, I phoned in sick and wandered in the woods instead of spend the day doing what I should be doing, and making a good, honest living.
I want to be in the forest, covered in burrs, barefoot on mossy ground. I want to make art. I want to have adventures. I want to run and run.
My little red dictator is longing for something and I don't know what it is. But it's not this.
Those little white soldiers were lost last week. I so diligently let them march into my mouth, one by one, day by day. They created pleasant neutrality (or is it ignorance?) in me. I drifted about and it didn't matter who came, or who went because time was passing and I couldn't stop it.
A glorious resolution or just plain resignation?
I stopped. And the whooshing began. An underwater torrent, cycling through my head.
I'm feeling it today. Or maybe I'm not feeling it today.
I'm lost.
Oh - I started an art blog today when I was supposed to be working.