when it’s around my legs transform into cinder blocks. my appetite shrinks to unadventurous. and where excitement should be budding i find a void. even the summer sun cannot sway me from my devotion to procrastination. my want of avoidance. numbness to all. it has a weight. a presence. a name. i just have no interest in knowing it.
fire coursing through veins. pump the heat that fuels this dance. rhythmic motions to beats unheard. endless energy flows outward. coming from nowhere. living everywhere. and i keep movement time. in this high. connecting with the jubilation of souls afar. whirling. join in this fire dance. for we are alive.
confession time. i’m a nerd. have been since i can remember. tried on different coats of nerd. started as a child with bug nerd and evolved into book nerd. then there was photo and writing nerd. cool nerdiness followed with circus nerd! and now i’ve settled into yarn nerd. specifically crochet. not just your regular “forever long scarf” hooker, but the fine-detail kind that has fallen in love with amigurumi. the yarn world always seemed odd, even for my eccentric tastes. now that i’ve woven my way in i have found a meditative practice that results in adorable plush critters. leading me to believe that even the oddest sounding hobby can have a world of undiscovered fun.
the sun stands steadfast along our journey. a reminder there is a future coming. of unknown consequences. a time where our surroundings look remarkably different. breezes with less breath. the seeds knowing that we shirked the issues of now. while the sun still sets on a land long forgotten. fields washed away into dust. my embers long absorbed by the soil. but the metal, she will remain.
travelers in time. we glide on beams. avoiding the shadows. how many times have we been here. will we be here again. different copies of ourselves. replacements. place holders. clones and the like. reliving the same until we break free. find a glow to transport our likeness elsewhere in the void. leaving behind a shell. duller. one that is destined to repeat history. but the stand-in will not be me. she will not shine as vibrantly. for my uniqueness has vaulted off to behold a new.
the ethereal expanse above turns on its kaleidoscope. displaying hues of time. each shade sparking memories of places visited. faces remembered. experiences never forgotten. clouds of nostalgia accumulate overhead. in my sunset i find longing. for those spaces and faces that stroll under a different sky. to want to share this moment with them all. wrap us in the spectrum of sunset. and fade the day together.
summer days infuse the fibers of my being with vibes that only this season can provide. the weather strikes a perfect balance of breeze and soul-warming sun. ingredients come together to form the best home-made blackberry ice cream that has ever graced this kitchen counter. pillows turn to weapons and laughter echoes as battle songs. the culmination of such little life moments is a manic state of happiness. a frenzied high that i’m clinging to. for the value of these days comes from their fleeting nature. so while the mood strikes, grab a plush weapon and join in the good times.
An outsider. Perched on the periphery of a place I cannot reach. The sediment shores of new lands crumble under each new footfall. Seductive waves splash at my ground. Ahead of a bright horizon. Observer my cast role. Camouflage granting only superficial access. Destined to glimpse community. Experience but a taste of its golden offerings. Before reality comes for repossession. Tossing my vessel to the fringe. Where I await the next welcome opportunity.
a start. sun shinning. its golden rays beckon. sirening me back into the world. daring me to dance in the light of the living. the strong and able bodied. the land of breath and vibrancy and motion. i can join in. surely. feel the warmth of day. the breeze of summer. forget the weakness of history. in this twirl comes renewal. living in my body again. that’s a start.
it’s all in my head. i know that. it’s all up there. contained in a tightly organized. overly scrutinized. arbitrary box. a shiny gloss of veneer encapsulates the gnawing thoughts. binding thoughts that perserverate. over and over and over yet again. suffocating. they make many facets possible and yet hinder so much more. the singular hope of change comes from the minder. the keeper. the me that watches this box with disagreement. but she’s not a sifter. not good at sorting the helpful from the harmful. and certainly not strong enough to toss the weed of my cerebral garden. no, she’s just as passive as i. letting the box take the helm. watching it continue its unencumbered path. all in my head.