that treasure thing feeling was just the urge to talk again. I'm coming to visit wyd at the end of the month for a few days. I can't wait. I think its going to be really good to reconnect, even if its only for minutes in between her study sessions.
I just scattered yummy crumbs all over the floor behind our desk. Hahaha.
Change is in the air. I've set it there. A big blinking neon sign that keeps me awake at night and follows me like a storm cloud in a cartoon. People stop and stare of course, but I pretend like its not there. I should probably just laugh about it. Sometimes the sign sneaks close to me, until in a moment of white shock, it burns the back of my neck or the skin on the outside of my arm. Lucky for me it didn't catch my hair on fire yet.
The process of Change is grinding, at times, isn't it. And there are way too many mirrors in this hall. Mirrors that catch my image and hold it just where I don't necessarily want to see it, especially right in that moment. Curses.
But then you come out on the other side of Change and you've blossomed. At least you feel like you have. The buds have bloomed into a mess of lilac purples and smells you want to sink into for an hour. And that's you. And that's why. But who said the goal is not the goal?
Anyway, there are days too when I wonder if I should just unplug the sign and put it back in the closet and forget the whole deal. It doesn't necessarily feel right to be focused so much on that. On me. Sometimes it feels way forced, other times self-centered, and sometimes just prolonging the drama that doesn't have to be there in the first place. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just playing the baby and making excuses and if I just decide to do it and then do it and shut up, then I'll be myself, I'll know myself, and I def won't be wallowing.
Well, there's that.