I sit here and stare at this blank white box. So much is running through my head and heart. The words don’t come easily.
I feel like I am standing here. I’ve been here for a while now. Probably too long.
I guess standing isn’t exactly right. I think I’m sitting. It’s pretty here. I can look down each road and marvel at the sites. I catch glimpses of things unknown and wonder about them. Music calls to me from some far off place around the bend. Smells waft down the lane enticing me with their sweet aromas. It’s nice and cool here in the shade. So I sit and try to feed myself on things I can’t actually see or taste. I’m not satisfied, but at least I have the smells and the sounds around me. I crave them.
Except sometimes it feels more like this. During rush hour traffic. Horns blaring and exhaust fumes choking the air.
No person is a horn or an exhaust fume. Don’t hear that. It’s the choices. Sometimes they scream out to remind me they are still there. They push and shove each other in their attempts to be noticed. They are tired of waiting. I pet them and talk pretty to calm them down. I promise them that I haven’t forgotten them. That one day very soon they won’t have to wait anymore. They retreat to the hidden corners of my mind satisfied with my love making.