Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Percussive fingernails
tapping a rhythm discordant with the cacophany within her head. She's
too big to make herself feel so small. She aches to take flight and
soar through the moonlit sky, dancing with the stars on her way to her
haven. She knows, with every bone in her body, that this is just a bump
in the path...but the bump reminds her of her frail frame and its
fragility. Life used to be SO EASY...simple addition led to simple
algebra...to simple calculus...to an IMPOSSIBLE life. Why is she so
melodramatic - for the sake of the art? Pain makes for good stories -
afternoon talk shows have taught her that much. Is she unhappy? No,
never that. More uncomfortable than anything, she tells herself...so
many un-'s. Uncomfortable, unsure, uneasy...but unafraid. She will
dance with the stars from solid ground tonight.
maybe i should just stop trying so hard. i mean, i still need to be focused writing reading singing laughing cooking but i can loosen up and not be a prescriptionist about everything or perhaps not.
Comments
Post a Comment