Sooner or later, the dam will break. As plugged up as I feel, as kept away from the language as I am held, eventually, it will flow through me once again so long as I am patient and don’t turn away from it. Chip at this wall, chip with tools and nails and teeth until the water runs wild and free. Soaks up all these desert tiles. Until the fish swim where once the birds flew.
Honestly, it is all just muscle memory. It is all just finding your way towards the way you used to do it and doing it that way a few times in a row. So I sit here while my mind kicks and screams and flutter around the edges of my skull trying to evade my attempts to bridle it and keep typing. Let the business run like that river.
Tomorrow, snowfall, which makes zero sense to me. So many sunny days recently. But it’s already raining now with enough strength to sound like a discordant student band stumbling towards music in a garage, so I suppose the forecasters may be right. This means I need a bit more time in the morning in case it is the first time we go on the bus off to work. I am contemplating many, many things, including that tonight.
I could, of course, always talk about J. That has not gone off course as some might have easily suspected, but it’s rather that the course has decided to carve a path through some massive mountainside and so we don’t, at this particular moment know either where we are or where we’re going. The things I needed before and pondered the plausibility of this man being able to provide me, I still need, but work has taken over so much of my mind now that I’ve consented to latch myself into that machine, so there isn’t brain power for much lust. I am open to lust. I like lust, love it, some might say, but when it is lurched along and squished into tiny, airless spaces. Well, it’s easy to just nod your head for a while if he doesn’t want to want to go full-bore into le romance.
There isn’t time to cajole, to draw it all out, but I hope I figure out how to find that time because I think sooner or later, it will drive me mad. Madder than is currently the menu on offer.
I have come to make myself finish this up. Listening to dark cabaret which is really rather weird and disturbing given the alternative silence of this room. THe last will and testament of a mildly functioning mind that just sought to fill a glass with water and then promptly forgot it to chase after an obnoxious cat. Let me be remembered for posts far greater than this one. Let my wit be elevated and not my blase, cliched turns at the page. Let us find our way clear and free of all of these constraints.