Erin, the wonder- ful Erin, who shines like a light through my window, posted a very evocative and provocative post today. When ever she doesn't wrap me up and envelop me with her thoughts and with the breadth of wonders in her words, I will be concerned. She is a wonder. In this place of wonders.
A post that began about trust and friendship and secrets. A post that ended with a feeling that she was inside my heart and mind.
She asked if we ever find ourselves 'landlocked, limited and confined?'
YES I shouted yes! I am feeling mellow and a bit flat. I accept. I avoid. But it is now out there. A post can do that. Unawares it grasps you by the throat. Unwittingly. Throttled by the force.
I am not unhappy, yet not happy. I am not discontented, yet not content. I am not unfulfilled, yet not filled.
It is I fear the human condition. A pocket of melancholy. It isn't depression. I know that. It is what it is. A void. A suppressed realisation. That this isn't it all. There is more. Much more. I strive to fill myself up. But I always am left lacking. Something is missing. It is like a missing hearbeat. A short stop. A nothingness. My Mojo is back. I am busy. I challenge myself. I write. I paint. I draw. I take photographs. I compose. I smell my own fears.
I suspect it much to do with change. Everything changes. Mostly quietly. Slowly. Like a snail. Little differences. Small movements. Light on dark. But unmistakable. The sound of change registers. So high pitched only my subconscious hears it. Monitors. Deflecting the pitch and it's diffused meaning. It has started.
I wallow in the branches of confusion. I'm not ready to hear it. Suppress it. The apron is straining. The scissors are hidden.The truth is smothered.
What else is there? I too go to bed. I too don't want to keep thinking.
