and the Inability to do either.
So many things rumbling around in my head that I find my nights dotted with short bouts of restless sleep and dreams that would disturb even the most calm of Buddhist monks.
However, at those moments when my trouble soul stirs me from my bed, I have no access to a computer, and any attempts at handwriting turn out to be largely illegible in the morning.
And so the angst eludes the exorcism that might come thru writing, and instead, slips back into the mired maze of my grey matter.
Constipated anger and confusion are clogging my mental pores, making it difficult to concentrate, or to give the appropriate amount of energy to any one task. Emotional meltdowns attack from behind the bushes; outraged outbursts explode forth before the ‘censor monkey’ can keep them from escaping my mouth. In general, I’m walking around akin to some ticking time-bomb, and each click of those hands, each moment of digital countdown resonates deep within me.
I feel myself aging quickly these days.
Many thanks to Luke Chueh for this fabulous piece "Eruption". It says so much more than I can right now.