There are words I can't tell you because I don't even know if they're real or not yet. There are words that have been dancing on my tongue's tip for months now. It's never the right time but somehow we have to seize the day. I come home every night with bags growing under my eyes and yet my eyes are sometimes further down the road than I am. I find myself worrying about unnecessary battles because I want to be prepared and then I trip over my own two feet. Then I study my shoelaces to see what I could have done better, only to miss the point the true point because it's already hovering over the horizon.
I want to tell you the words stuck inside me but I need more time. I want to live today but I need more rhyme. I want to not want so much but this lust is killing me one day at a time. I shall not be in want, right? So how do I practice such a word or proverb? I often find myself becoming a product of the trees planted around me. I haven't always wanted to be placed here. The last couple of years have felt more like enduring than really living. I tell people that I'm trying to make the most of it but I don't try as hard as I would like. It's easier to stay inside. It's much more simple to complain about the heat than it is to fix the air conditioning or to even turn it on.
I'm hurrying in my life to make things happen and then I rush into the important decisions. I closely examine the pencil shavings and eraser marks and paint over the number on the account balance. My eyes are far away and my hands are too close to my hips. I need replacement surgery but of nothing in particular. I need a motivational drive to keep me moving. If I am to stay anywhere, it ought to be moving.
I'm nearly falling asleep and this has become next to nothing. The ideas ran away again, perhaps they're hiding in my dreams. A few sentences became sketches of oases but the rest seem incongruent, bland, and without substance or flavor. I'll come back if God wills it.