I suppose that the buzzing in my head was just looking for a place to escape. It reminds me of a bird, caught between two glass doors, destroying itself in a terrified bid for freedom. It found it, last night, somewhere between the sober, frank discussions and the floods of self-doubt and fear.
At first I thought it had gotten into the walls, and I listened for it, a glass pressed up against my ear. It wasn’t there, though — but the more I listened, the more I knew it was nearby, somewhere close.
I think it’s in my clothes, now. I can feel it on me if I stay very still, something like a skin.
5 Comments
Dude, I think we need to take you to the doctor
You should write more often. Let this be my decree: Thou shalt write more often!
it was great meeting you today. we’ll talk soon.
HEY PUNK!
journal buddies, oui?
now we have to get him to actually POST something…!
boys…silly creatures *smirk*