I carry regret and bitterness... it hides in places that I often tromp over with enlightened stories and friendly smiles. I wonder if it is what keeps me awake, wandering into our bedroom so late at night like a shadow of silenced feelings, hovering over my mind till my eyes open and I wonder what all is really happening, why my mind is moving like this when I sleep.


I've taken a new journey, for myself, trying to figure out what I hide away, like the boxes of old memories and artwork stuck on the top of the garage shelves. Every day I pass those boxes, dusty and quiet, and they aren't part of my reality, even though I would see them IF I just looked up. And I wonder what keeps me from diving in and re-living each piece till I find answers, or maybe a trifle small bit of myself that I have forgotten. A box, full of magical colors, begging to be released between my fingers. A loom, half eaten, half filled with dabbles of yarn in an effort to weave some meaning from my creativity. Sketchbooks, full of dream-like Dali-isms, contortions of the part of me that stays so melancholy and tired. I crave more space - more room to spread out and meditate. New avenues to explore. I crave a space to sort out the bitterness so it doesn't creep in to my feelings when I least expect it.

Labels: feelings, self reflect