I can’t put together a coherent thought lately. It’s all just bits and pieces racing through my head. I have six drafts open at once, but I get nowhere. And since I can’t write, I have no catharsis.
Only pent up emotions and thoughts and ideas and love and crazy and lust and worry.
Maybe that’s why it feels like I’m barely holding on to my sanity. I don’t understand myself anymore. There are so many ups and downs in a day. Even my nights are haunted by dreams, sometimes wonderful, mostly scary. I’ve been trying to find meaning in the little things; better ways of chopping rosemary, adjustments to the form when practicing Tai Chi, new strumming patterns on the uke.