blah--

just one of those days. (and You know the ones i mean..)

i really don't want to think. i don't want to feel a need to explain myself to You or anyone else.
yet i do.

..


i'm sitting in my room, lights off--i have an eastern window, so the sunlight is enough. i've grown up knowing this house. And this room--i've spent nights in this room since birth.

And the great thing of this room is the ceiling. it spins. Yours might too. i'll show You sometime, show You how to see it. i can make it spin--play with it, watch it, then almost will it to move.

if only everything were that easy. if only i could will more than that.. but then, what's the fun in that? if you don't have to work at it or for it, then it's not nearly as exciting when the results come out right.


..


can't keep my eyes open, but i can't sleep either. Not the real sleep--the kind where you slip into the perfect silence, immediately before dreams commence.


perfect silence.


dead of night. When you're completely still--alone--just waiting for either slumber or some other grand, random adventure to come your way. At first, it seems silent. But with patience, You'll begin to notice

crickets.

the cars passing on the road beyond the neighbour's house.
the wind. the clock, keeping time just loud enough to let you know--it's still there.
breathing. Your breath rising and falling, as a reminder,
Life still is.
somewhere.

Life ... don't talk to me about Life ...

and in this perfect silence, you'll begin to notice
the things that are.
And sometimes, the things that aren't.

Rain--i noticed there wasn't rain last night. i wished for it, but it never came. i didn't pray for it though--it wasn't a need, not something i needed, just wanted.
only for a few minutes.


..


just one of those days.


why can't i stop.