There are seconds, sometimes long hours, where my head feels heavy. Heavy with a weighted accumulation of thoughts. Some unimportant, and some important enough to be worth avoiding. But to turn my back on one, means to stare at another, and the pressure is not unlike that of a boiling kettle. Steam burns brand those … More I’m Fine.
Pale, and drawn. Drawn, with charcoal, that makes heavier my eye lids, and my feet. Who are you? I whisper… at my reflection in the mirror that hides nothing. My face, that is not mine. I dance like I am a movie star, but my arms and my legs don’t move. The music scratches like … More Reflection, In the Dark
I often lean back in my swivel chair, and note my fingerprints on the glass desk that I work on. It is a dark, almost black, thick and beautifully large piece of glass balanced on two ‘A Frame’ cast iron stands. It takes four people to move it. But the metaphor here, for me, is … More Mental Bleach