There are terrible things happening in the world. People want to internalize tragedy. Look, I'm sad too. I've been affected. I can feel. I'm a liar. The trees are bending in the immense crush of a cold rush that will not be stopped. I can hear the creaking, feel the wood as if in my own bones. The beat of the world is thumping hard, like a bird beating its feathers off against the bars of some cage, like the bars in my chest, keeping things in. I would love to see the door open, have a burgeoning gutting.
I'm mad at myself today. Going for a cup of coffee tomorrow with someone I met at a party. I have a lot of work to do and I'm not doing it. I keep turning the music pumping through my headphones up. I don't want to listen to myself right now. But when the beat slows, when the song switches, it's too quiet. I guess I've never slept well in October.
No comments:
Post a Comment