Mad Musings

My mind twists, and with every turn a new frustration. What is it that makes people tick? How do they operate? Where do I begin? Time waits for no one does anyone wait on time? Lost in thoughts of you like you'd ever notice anyhow. I'm in love but frustrated. Missing parts of me like dominoes in a box of forgotten string. I won't know what's out there until I'm lost will I?

He watched her from across the room. She had headphones on with the music up loud, and her foot was steadily tapping to the beat as she wrote. What she wrote, he would never know. As he sat on the love seat in his room, she sat on his bed. He could see she was tired, but she refused to lose. For some reason she kept writing, he wished she would sleep, but she seemed intent on her work. After an hour or so had passed she leaned her head back against the wall. She kept fighting sleep. Finally, he got up and sat down on the bed. She looked up at him, blinking furiously. He pulled her into his arms and laid down on the bed. She looked up and rolled her eyes. She looked so adorable. He kissed her lips and felt her smile. Clearly, he had won, so she took off the headphones and listened to his heart beat as she fell asleep. ~~~~ She woke with a start, anxiously looking around. her eyes fell on his peaceful, sleeping face. Her eyes softened, and her heart calmed. She ran her slen...

She ran through the rain; feeling the cool drops against her warm skin. It felt amazing, it was dark and there was nothing to shed light except for an old, forgotten street lamp that hummed softly. It was barely audible over the roar of the rain and clap of the clouds. She wore only a mid-thigh length dress that, by now, was soaked to her bones, plastered to her form. Her dress was black as pitch and her skin dark, but paling. Sun was something she didn’t see much of, this one summer night had been just warm enough for a dress. Nothing adorned her long, slender feet for she wanted to feel the Earth with her roots, as if she were a tree. ~~~~ He watched the rain fall from the shelter of a rusted, forgotten shed. Darkness was all around him, and, if he wished, he could simply turn on his flash light to chase away the darkness but he did not. Darkness had always been his friend, always. Even as a child he would sit in the dark, for the dark does not judge. It blindly loves and embraces y...

Noon. Probably not the best wake up time. Forever torn between late nights and early wake up calls I stumble to the kitchen. Groggy and teetering I make my green tea. My mother is here and I need to walk down to the shed she dubs "The She-Shed". I walk outside. She's on the phone with her boyfriend. The small black plastic slipped over her ear as she picks up trash. The dogs got a hold of the large black trash bag we left outside the previous day. I help her, barefoot and hot tea up in hand. She's chatting to her boyfriend as we work. "There was a pair in the trailer but it was too much trouble to go get them." Oh. The little grabby things. What were those called? An arm with a trigger on one end that caused the other end to clasp and close with each squeeze of the handle. It's always interesting the various things we use or come into contact with and never wonder what they are or what they're called. If only I had thought to grab it... but why?...