Lullabye

Oh. I'm sleepy today at work. Stayed up a little too late the last two nights. It's ok. It's the fault of I, Claudius and Vanity Fair (the movie).

So I've been thinking a lot about sickness and health and weakness and strength lately. How do people decide when to abide by rules? When are they put into place? After a wedding only? It seems like you must already feel that you'll stand by your beloved no matter what if you're willing to publicly proclaim it so...

I've dated a few people by this point. Enough to know I know something small. Enough to know I know nothing at all. Questions questions.

Love, feelings, emotions, swirling in a maelstrom. Random and deliberate.

Leave me. Don't leave me.

I went to New Hampshire on Monday. I cut through all the bullshit of miscellaneous extraneous unnecessaries. I used a machete to cut a path through the thick brush of city distraction and hindrance. I went to get away. To ride on a bus for a little over an hour in the autumn sun. Simple and clean. Leaves, rivers, and streams with choppy waters. To rest and relax, though I truly never do either. Stone weight of my mind dragging my brain down. Sagging under its own weight of pointless thoughts and questions.

I went to visit Scott. We don't see each other as much as we used to and it's ok, because we know there is more time for all things. We got re-acquainted, though we really didn't need to. I saw with my own eyes his peace and tranquility, living in a cozy spot with his mom and two cats. Very cozy. Cute little orange cat sleeping on a quilt...the very picture of God Bless This House.

I wonder if I tire of living with city boarders...

Would it not be better for my mind to live alone or with only ones I love and know?

Dear, I fear myself changing and it scares me. Things I never even considered now appeal strongly to me.

We played music and it was so good. It was honest. We believe in the songs we've written. Scott carries the torch when I am too exhausted. And distracted.

Never break apart. Never crack. Allow no fissures.

I want to do music. It is calling me. To sing out and affect people is all I desire. But I am lost for now in somniferous depths of cloud-head.

Sing me a lullabye and let me sleep.