So it's when we are tiredest that our truth comes out. When sleep erodes the barriers betwixt emotions and our exterior and even what goes on inside and suddenly everything that happens inside your head connects to your heart, and suddenly you can't help but notice it.
If this is to be awake, no wonder I keep myself tired.
It's when the fog we cast over our mind is lifted and suddenly we find ourself running, running at full speed with a mind like a sphere and there's no one here and we are all alone because no one can know or understand that this is life, day in, day out.
Focus. Focus is that fog. We cannot control the speed at which our mind works and we cannot keep one thought long enough to complete it so... Focus. The fog of the mind. Throwing a blanket over everything just long enough...
We hope.
And we put ourselves in a box
In a box?
In a cage
In a cage?
In a shell
A turtle shell and you can't get us out
We are the entitiy that is heart and mind and soul and spirit and all of the time
It
Reads
Like
THIS like a whirlwind
No punctuation
The music that accompanies is sometimes the only way to root it all into one plant.
Because otherwise we'd have a garden.
But too much, and the flowers would suffocate each other.
There is no training for this. There is no recognition for this.
What do we call ourselves?
Broken.
We call ourselves broken.
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