I sit in silence and stare at the wall. I trace patterns and puzzles composed of paint specks and tiny clumps as the vague and relentless thoughts fill my mind . I drive mechanically, the sun warming my face, the whir of wheels and whistling wind conduct a rhythmic duet; teasing me with the false promise of calm. As if every element surrounding me knows that I would be perfectly fine if I could only find a path to mental clarity. There is most definitely something I cannot place. No answers; no questions, but entirely impalpable. But then again, questions flood my head, but are they the right questions? Should I question at all? Gray area. I'm drowning in it, and it's THAT part which I find so hard to endure. Everytime I step into it...yet the gray area is always neccessary to tread to get to the colorful clarity. If that is what one desires, then they deal and keep going until they get to where they want to be. Or then there is me. Either stear clear of those waters all together in case of tidal waves (play it safe)...or chop twists and cave in cliffs and unload mountains on the journey down the path (still trying to get there right?). My dad always told me I must do things the hardest way possible...or get out while I can. Now I sit and write to get it out, because I need something and I have no idea what it is, but the unsettling in my gut and the cluster-fuck in my mind wont allow me to just forget them. And as I sit here, I wonder if all this brain-racking is pointless. And then I worry about that too, I don't want it to be... I know myself very well in certain ways, yet I seem to be at a loss when it comes to acting on inherent fact. The wires cross somewhere or don't meet at all from the point of knowing to the point of going off of what i know. I have spent so much time in obscurity that simplicity seems so difficult. I mean when it comes to expression. my voice. moments, thoughts, words. All nicely mixed and sorted enough so that one would have to take a little more time to understand...and it's been called bullshit and it's been called defense and it's been called mystery. but just the thought of that curtain jerking open and standing there, totally naked with nothing to grab onto to cover myself with sends shivers down my spine.

Distraction. it's the root of obstacles we create as human beings, when it comes to other human beings. Pride. It's the character crapper...with a dash of image concern and desire for comfort and familiarity. Solitude. It's the dissassociation from connecting to raw truth, and the detachment that keeps the human heart safe from pain. All of these are really just one thing; fear. And it makes me sad. because so many people, more and more it seems, act and make decisions based on fear rather than what's really important in life, what makes us human and what makes HUMANS so amazing and beautiful. We are meant to connect, to interact, to cling, to hurt, to endure, to expose, to explore. I've met the rare honest, simple, decided and I've met the lost and the victims and the cause and the affect. What I know, what I see, my inherent understanding of people and my passion to just bring at least a bit of joy wherever I go; do not well corralate with my habits, repetition, confussion, or failure. Sense of worth, sense of self, sense of humor... i wish to concent. i wish to contest. i wish to let go. Fear.
I wish to take It and look It in the eye, and swallow my pride. But I do not. I have not. Not even yet...through all struggles and through all awareness and lessons. With knowledge and desire and dissatisfaction, still I do not.
I step back into myself and I become emotion and pride and fear and detachment and confussion. I become human. Now, rather than overcoming those instictual safety nets and letting down walls, I contemplate how to forget, or if not forget then how to shrug and numb-out any dangerous intensity, or at least how to portray myself as one; unaffected, carefree. Yet the wanting of connection and discovery still remains so how many mountains and cliffs and twists will reconstruct the path this time? Or will there even be one at all?
And it's funny...making such claims as I do; when still...I care enough to say it all anyway...right here. when it's meant to be left unsaid. But I say, what the hell...maybe some good can come out of such cryptic flagrance. Or at least a bit of relief, and the sense of calm.