Spinning

Welcome to The Thoughtline—my journal of soft questions and shifting streams of consciousness. Some entries are reflections; others are fragments, most somewhere in the in-between. This is the second.

~ Clunk~

ooos i spilled my coffee
it covers the pages in a splash of old thoughts…

i am shelter for others but not a home

is this my choice
or theirs?

— a pause, a pour, the door open just a crack —

here are my walls
you cannot stay
but come have tea

i am safe and warm
but powerful
i can shield you from the storms

— and yet —

sometimes i get so caught up in noticing someone’s shift,
i forget to realize i was the one shifted first.

to deny that i am highly sensitive
is gaslighting my feelings.

— soft center, stormy mind —

what do you want to bring when you are around people?

for me
i want to bring peace,
but how can i do that
if my mind is always a storm.

i’m talking like my old self again,
always between two extremes.

— sprinting and squeezing at the pulse —

“you decide when to end the sprint
but we’re squeezing at the pulse”
tech.
top universities.
war.

— suddenly: deep thought, not that kind —

deep throat
no not that kinda deep
i’m talking deep deep
like actually

..a joke

a book…

~cliche~

and i knew when i started talking about the furniture
it wouldn’t convince you
but it doesn’t make it not true

and it’s corny
and already been said

but i don’t need to rewrite the script
things are often said because they’re true

and it’s lovely
how furniture has touched so many hands
been in so many lives

i think all things i own should be cherished
and i feel sad that i have too much
i can’t do that

and i feel guilty that i have too much
so i must make good of it

but the rain is soft
and

life gets to keep spinning. thanks for reading i hope you find a thread in the fragments just for you. smooch smooch

Em.