Being

I wish there was a way for me to write and express my ideas. A special website for just my eyes, that allowed me to write all of my thoughts in exactly the aesthetically pleasing way I would hope a website would look like. My cat is sleeping with her nose touching my slippers. She likes the smell of feet. 

I just sometimes feel as though there are a lot of thoughts happening, and I don’t know where to put them. Sometimes I wish they had structure. 

I suppose it’s because at this moment, I’ve been turned off for too long. 

I don’t want to re-identify with my mind, but I think it’s important that I’m waking up. (Suddenly, a flood of memories enter my mind’s movie screen, reminding me of the many other tumblr posts I made on blogs from 2011, 2012, 2013, and on all about being asleep and waking up. I felt so much energy and...angst to get it out. I don’t write with this urgency anymore. I know I am at my destination.) I took a nap in my cave far past from when I needed it. I’m glad to have had the rest, but rest has become a habit, and therefore is not rest anymore. It is an action that has taken up my energy, an oxymoronic feature of my life that has replayed over and over. 

I will reach the point again where the sound of any voice within me, narrating anything that is happening will make my eyes roll far back into my head where it will then roll back to face forward because the very sight of my mind was just as sickening as the voice that comes out of it. 

But maybe this time I will break the cycle. Maybe this time, the writing will come from my heart. 

It’s not something I would like to ponder anyways. I’m trying to quit oxymoronic features in my life, I say dragging smoke from my cigarette while planning moments of stillness and health.