Your Mind Being Somewhere Else


Always hurdling, always looking for the last strand of light.

Always hurdling, always looking for the last strand of light.

I will be working on something and then there it is again.

I start a new project or start something I know I must do, and there it is looking at me but no one else can see it.

I hear directions and by at least the 10th step I have been gone.  In a world where there aren’t directions, steps, logical conclusions, and I know I have been here before.

It feels like an abandoned warehouse, spider webs, crumbling bricks scattered everywhere.  It could be nice if I spruce it up.

It feels amazing when you do fill it up, with memories, quotes, sayings that mean nothing when you look at the words by themselves. There is something that has to be there to make them come to life, just like the warehouse.

None of it means anything if there isn’t a light that shines through.  A sound that trickles through the air, the equivalent of hearing the rain drops pat against the leaves of trees.

There has to be a warmth that brings you in, a familiarity that makes you know that this is where you belong.

I wish that the lost feeling you get when you are inside it goes away.  That never happens though, I have been in it too long.

The dark looms over the area just like stillness sets up a home in an area after a death.  There is no life there anymore.

I thought it had shone through, just a little bit, that light I had been looking for.  It slowly peeked out, and I know it was there.

Then gone again, just like a sound that has to be echoed.  You heard it, but you don’t know where, and you definitely can’t get to it now.

This feeling is tiring, yet it feels like home.  Everyone wants to go home, but for me?  I want a vacation from it, or let the spring cleaning begin.

The floors are dusty, the air is too still, there is life to be lived, and yet I have no direction to turn.  So I may just run whichever way I see fit, and let the happenings happen.

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