falling forward

I should be sleeping, but I never seem to sleep when I need it. Instead it is loose ends and electric light and typing after trails I oughtn't even be thinking after. My bags are packed, the coffee maker is ready to go. All I need to do is get a little sleep, and the alarm will do the rest. All I need to do is get a little sleep, and I will be stumbling through another day of blunt labor and dull repartee. Once you get going, any mistake can become an occupation. Any little error can become the going trend.

I didn't see the stars spinning, hardly felt the wind lapping at my skin. I surrendered the front door early, locking out the skate boards and dog barks, locking in my indolence. I dozed there in my skin while the television sold its stories, and I worried after my wear.
A sore shoulder and a stiff neck. A bum hip clattering like sea rocked stones. The slightly sad, misfit feel I get whenever I get a good whiff of my life. I drank ice water, and I stared and stared. The walls flexed and swayed with shadows.

I am a lonesome sort, but every day I am asked and answered. I am a solitary type, but the conversation continues to delight and surprise. There are stars and there are strangers. There are stories I watch play out that astound me. There are stories I watch play out that I know by heart. Pretty little worlds full of sweetness and horror. Strange vast countries full of masks and bliss. I will dream some, then continue falling forward. Fall long enough and everything seems like flight.