through these lenses

sift me, please

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I cannot stop moving. I cannot sit still. hey, you’d think it was the coffee i just made at 3:50 in the afternoon …NOPE…I made the coffee to make me be productive. strange.

today’s been that. strange. the end of something, the beginning of another. and a million other mysterious things that i can’t decipher. it’s just one of those days that makes me think and think and think and think.

…drinking coffee that’s not really mine, because i can’t find the container i bought the other day
…listening to music that’s not mine, because i’m tired of all my faded options.
…wanting to sit, because i know there’s something in me that needs to be sifted through once i do.

I just can’t escape it. there’s this chord in me that breaks when a certain thing happens. I usually see the thing, sometimes i hear of it, never really smell or taste it..but i always, ALWAYS feel it. It rumbles inside my core, echoing itself against the memories of previous violent storms. I just hate it, but also feel so much familiarity and identity there too. Today, there was no lighting before the boom to warn me. I was at the movies with a beloved friend and while just sitting there, loving the fact that it was 10:45 a.m. and i paid a mere $2.50 for a good flick…BAM!!….hello broken chord. Um…please stop being broken. I’m supposed to be escaping reality right now with with my friend. Why stupid chord, are you sitting next to me? Why are you creeping yourself up into my heart again, being broken where broken is all you really know?

So…I come home and move. i move from my washing machine to my desk, from my dishwasher to my couch, from my mail box to my car, from my cell phone to my coffee pot.

I should have made decaf.

father…sift me thoroughly, sift me real.

Written by throughtheselenses

August 8, 2008 at 5:50 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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