I looked at the kids’ faces, their brows furrowed in concentration, their hair flying about in the wind, their hands scribbling as fast as they could as if their lives depended on it. In a way, it was, and then I went back inside my head (because when you can’t talk out loud, your brain does ALL the talking, and more often than not, what your brain has to say just pisses you off).
And my brain saw all the young faces and then took one look at mine and said, “Ouch.”
My brain tortured me today with images of what ifs especially in the midst of gorgeous views of land and air and the company of amazing people.
What if I heard from you again?
What if you walked in that door?
What if it were you who walked in on the arm of that person?
What if you had met a fate worse than death? (Ah hello, melodrama. There you are.)
I thought I was done.
I guess I’m not.
I went back to my guilty pleasure book/s in the comfort of my bed hoping hoping hoping and wishing that I’d find some solace or at least some distraction before drifting off into peaceful exhausted slumber.
And all I found was:
My favorite word from college lit class is catharsis. At first, it was because I felt I was a gazillion times smarter than the person who’s never heard of it. Then I realized that it was the reason I buried my head and my heart in my books.
It gets rid of the
Who cares if you disagree
you are not me
Who made you king of anything
so you dare tell me who to be
who died and made you king of anything?
Two days ago my heart pounded like there’d be no more tomorrow. I was clammy inside and outside. My mom commented that I was cold. I didn’t know why. I chalked it up to malaise.
I bundled up in my favorite furry blanket and slept and slept and woke up and slept some more and ate and slept some more.
And I drank alcohol. I had a shot.
And so went the
Here in these deep city lights
girl could get lost tonight
I’m finding every reason to be gone
there’s nothing here to hold on to
could I hold you?
Saktong drama lang.
Maybe my brain will let me sleep now.