Once again, my head is too full... and so is the moon.
It's a wonder I'm not an alcoholic or a drug addict. Really. There are times when it would be so nice to have a bit of oblivion. But then I worry... what if I miss that quintessential moment that revealed it all to me? So, I throw myself into creative endeavors, instead of a bottle, in an attempt to quell the raging beast. A few years back I took anti-depressants for a while, but I hated them. Not only did they dull the sadness in my life, but they dulled everything else... my sense of humor, my libido, my energy level, my empathy. I'd rather feel too much than nothing at all.
What is the sound of a feeling?
It's the vague hush just before the leaves rustle.
It's the sound of a distant train.
It's the thunderclap that wakes one from sleep.
It's the sound of piano music coming from a house down the block.
It's a gasp, a sob, a chuckle, a sigh.
It's the bullet whining past your head.
Yeah... see? Like I need to get stoned. My thoughts are already far enough out the door.
"...you asked who else I could
talk to like this
while I was wondering what to do
with feelings I
so close to mine
it chilled me."
~Lyn Lifshin, For a Friend