Not Always
(Feb 19/2011)
Driving through back alleys – all alone, just because.
Just to hear my own thoughts again, since no one ever does.
How did it come to this, I wonder… that I must sort and sift through all that I’ve absorbed all these years, trying to discover what to make with the material I can identify with and what to do with the rest.
Where to put it? How to analyze it?
Rolling it over my fingers, through my eyes, on my tongue.
Letting it be and trying desperately to make it work for me at the same time.
It sounds exhausting.
Sometimes it is exhausting
but not always.
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