This week I battle to stave off stagnation. This day I sit in front of two screens, my ears sparking full of music to spontaneously combust to. I shake the familiar restlessness down my sleeves to the cuffs but it never falls out, just hangs there like weight bands around my wrists. This hour I question my motives, my motivations; I contemplate my dreams, both self-constructed and those scissored into my head as I sleep. This minute I cough up words, try to make sense of it all, just to still my quaking limbs. This second I blink and breathe, knowing that sometimes that’s all there is to do.
Posted by birds fly on February 26, 2009