Another Drop

I can't say why, so don't ask, but I have felt convicted to share with you some of my thoughts.

So, here are a few selections from my notebook.




Remnants of a half eaten breakfast litter this counter. I pour out the little coffee left as I brush my teeth. The mixture of smells tugs at my gag reflex. I spit. I turn out the light that I wish could always be on. Towels, papers, clothes, and music clutter the floor. I kick an almost empty sprite bottle and watch it roll along the heavily grouted tile. Climbing up the small steps, tattered, worn pages and romantic Old-English phrases float around my thoughts. They say one's bedroom is a wonderful representation of the mind. Mine sure fits. As I crawl under the sheets, you come to mind. Only, I realize that you've been echoing in my head since this morning. It's an odd thing, for me to continue dwelling on one thing for such a large amount of time. It confuses me. I'm not sure what it means. Worry? Love? Fascination? Fear? What is the metaphor hidden in these constant reminders of you? I shut my eyes. And dream of you.

(That one ^ actually inspired a song, entitled "In the Air." I'll post it when I'm done here.)



I wish I were lying in bed with you. Not with you, just with you. Sleeping. With your arms holding me close. With my head on your chest. With you reciting beautiful, beautiful words in my ear. Without a care in the world. Without her to worry about. Free of complications. Free of fear. Just you and just me, just sleeping and breathing and whispering. The way we are when you meet me in the middle of nowhere. In our fantasy world.



I don't want to be here. Never did. Never will. So I let myself escape. I'm aware of my real surroundings, I know they're there, I hear the teacher and the judgemental stares burn into me. I know it's all there. But I drift off into my fantasy world; the same scene I've been going to these past few weeks. I leave the real world so often that I don't even have to close my eyes anymore. My mind just goes and all of a sudden I'm where I want to be. No longer am I lectured or burned into; rather, I'm in his car, drinking coffee, singing along to oldies. He lealns over and kisses me. Next thing I know We're across from each other in a booth at Denny's, his favorite, drinking black coffee from white mugs, discussing our lives and our minds. All of a sudden, I snap back to reality. There they are, that group in the corner, staring at me like I don't deserve to be here - to be anywhere. At least it's better here than before. But I can't seem to escape any of this no matter where I go - until I leave the room and time and place. He calms me down, makes me feel safe and a sense of belonging. So drifting off to be with him, it's my best bet.



This place is a sea of loose t-shirts. Everyone in this room has on a shirt two sizes too big. Some groups are matching, some are not. Sounds of applause and cheering fill the room for the people on stage. I wish I were them. Up there under the bright lights wearing anything but this loose shirt. I want these thousands of people watching me, cheering for me. I drift off, as I have often the past forty-eight hours, now it's me up there, creating a character, creating a world, being praised. They call my name and hand me an award. Everyone is impressed. I come back to the sea I'm standing in, and there they are, performing a poorly executed scene. I'm just another drop; another loose t-shirt in this ocean of thousands.