Stitching away every inch of the day that I can, loving and floating in it.
These little squares of self-talk, stories that I keep telling myself over and over, reshaped, but still the same, let me know that there's still something I need, or want to hear and believe.
Ideas come in bursts in that moment between awake and sleep, making me wish it was possible to take a screen shot, because the memories of them are often blurry by morning. Last night there was a bird singing a star song in the night sky...
Dreams have come every night for the last couple of weeks. Deep dreams, often in direct connection with conversations of the day. Dreams of the dead- friends, co-workers, old teachers... of going back in time and seeing them again, wanting to warn and save them from their fate, and realizing that I can't control everything...anything. Other nights, I'm visited by folks I've lost touch with, some on purpose. The next day, I often hear from them. Ghosts of my present.
Language is a struggle lately. The other night I said the wrong word for something to K.. There is stuttering, in thought and words. Last night, in the middle of a "discussion" with Moon, I had to stop to gather the thoughts into coherent sentences (which, I discovered, is not a bad strategy when dealing with a teenager). I'm pretty sure it's not a medical issue, but rather a result of being full. So much to swim through...
