The Funny Headspace

Oh, the sun has come back to burn my skin once again. Waiting for me to step out and then I’ll just burst. My rules, the foundation of everything I fight to keep orderly inside my frame, and it’ll just explode into the sun.

Oh, I’ve been at this for hours now, and it’s just a blank page. Everything I wanted to say and air out gets stuck and turns funny when I try to dig it out of my head. The information turns to feelings, and feelings turn into scrambled information. Hunches of what I wanted to do and be grip at memory as I start digging in other places, anywhere in my head for something useful.

Oh, my mind is on fire, and something wants to come out. What is its name, what does it say, and what will it become when it is unleashed? It transforms like its lifespan ticks by forever and backwards instantly. I try to grab it and it’s not there, standing off to the side, taunting me.

I have a name for my muse, but I’m fairly sure I forgot it.

I have an idea I want to convey, but I’m not sure what it is.

I have to do something.

Oh, how my mind refuses to accept silence. When everything else has died down, I am filled with needless chatter for pointless things, and for pointless reasons. I accept this noise, in the hope that something useful will arise from all of it. Blueprints on how to build something, maybe myself? It’s all in there. I just need to sort it out.

Oh, how my feet kick back and forth on the edge of the bed. Memories burning in me like the sun would if I stepped outside. Games played, faces missed, fights started, and all the fuzzy details I’m very hazy on now. Bring me back to when this was easy, when one was two and two became one, and I was justified, and sleep accepted me.

Oh, I think I’m starting to get it now, why this all refuses to make sense to me, why my mind just won’t let me fall asleep. I’m going back and forth between what I am and where I was, forgetting how I’m supposed to rotate around the sun. And I sit up and I start to jot everything down, try to make sense of it once it all comes out.

I have a name for this feeling, but I’m fairly sure I forgot it.

I have something I need to say, but there’s no one here.

I have to make something of this.

Oh, and the sun still wants to make me explode, while I meander about with my sullen face glued to all that I own. I battle it and myself so needlessly, but I’m sure victory will be worth it when I have this thing out.

Oh, how sleep just keeps passing me by, but I don’t mind it. We were never very good friends. Conflict within my thoughts, conflict within my body, soul and everything around me, it all screams in a plain and dull tone. I don’t quite like the things I see when they are beyond my control, I don’t like it when the clouds come in and tell me what they see in all their grand obscurity.

Oh, this bed is dragging me in, kicking and screaming I fall down again, my eyes too heavy to move and dart around the room. I shut the light away, but flickers of it dance in my room like stars among the dark. I contemplate the last things I think I’ll ever contemplate. I’m sure when I walk into the sun I will burst and cease to be. I’ll walk out of my room and the sky will accept me and consume me. The clouds in their obscurity, will say things that make no sense, but capture the feeling I wanted to offer.

Oh, these thoughts just won’t let me be, like a circus that repeats every act endlessly and with ruthless efficiency. I’m sure there’s quite a lot to glean from this. I’m quite sure that I should be writing it down, capturing something, like lightning caught in a bottle, freed from the oppressive clouds and their obscurity.

The bolts burn like fire, like how my eyes see the light from the sun.

The bolts dart around my room, and they threaten to make me burst.

The bolts escape my room, and they cackle and laugh as they dance around the sky.

Think of something to say, perfect words falling to the floor when no one is around to listen. I pick them up again, and rearrange them, trying to see if they are more presentable then when they first left my mouth.

Think of something to do, to pass the time as I lie here doing nothing. Contemplate when two were one and one was two, all the things I said and I meant to do. And it was like a fire escaping from the night, bringing the sun with it to the other side to say something I can’t hear. The words surround me and try to take me but I don’t understand them, and they carry the intent of everyone around them. No one else here though, so I wonder where they came from. What brought them here into this room, where they fall to the floor?

Think this is getting a little old, as the bits of light dance across my room. I wanted the dark to comfort me like a blanket, but I sat around, and it wasn’t willing to wait. From the rise to the fall from the fall to the rise, it keeps on going and I’m not sure if I can keep up that stride. Outside the sun stands triumphant in the sky, knowing that when I step outside I will burst. When I do, all the intent will splash across the universe, and my pathetic worries and wonder just dissipate.

Think now it all might just go away. My lids are heavy, and I can’t stay awake. The clock says I’m an idiot, and I know its right. But these thoughts will come again to claim me, whether I like it or not. The prancing circus in my head, full of names and thoughts and intentions that I don’t want to forget, it remains and stands victorious once more before it bursts. I jot it down to see if anything sticks, but I forget too quickly, and get lost in the dancing bits of light. Here it comes again, waiting for another night.

Everything finds a way out of my head.

Everything finds just what it wants, far away.

Everything exits and then falls flat.

I am here on this bed. I’ve been here the whole time.

It comes again, it comes again.

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