What does it take to travel far without leaving oneself behind? Bright colors lie beyond the horizon but they can seem so far away when sleep beckons from less than a room away. I'm searching for something unknown in my mind and so how am I to know when to call back the search party? How do I know when to stop and where to go? Will I ever even know if I've found it?
What am I looking for? Daily my movements are full of bright colors and big ideas but once I wake from the exhaustion after work I can't seem to find them anymore. I return to my notebooks, my journals, or any other outlets and there is very little left save for a few mundane tints and shades of gray. I want to paint the walls but not to paint myself into a corner unless someone else is nearby. I'm like a disaster movie playing on a VCR with the sound on mute. It's grainy and there is some semblance of ripe ideas but they can't escape if no one can find the remote, or perhaps even better if someone could find a digital copy of this film and a television that isn't analog on which we could enjoy it.
No one will read this for clues, and even if they do their search will likely be fruitless.
Gray words slipping through my fingertips, dripping down my brow, and falling onto deaf ears. Are you listening or just hearing? And even more, am I speaking or just making grunting and groaning sounds? Catch the vaporous smoke escaping that is all that remains from the once lit match.
Slippery.
Elusive.
Unsubstantial.
Gone.
A pigeon feather floating just above the fresh volcanic ash.
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