Thursday, August 23, 2012

I'll wake up, some day

When you turn on the shower in my apartment, even when the knob is turned all the way to steaming hot, it takes a while for the water to warm up. I often step in to my shower stall, with my head hanging I let the freezing cold water hit the back of my head. It forces (what little) hair I have to hang towards the ground. Slowly it starts to warm up, just before my neck gets numb from the cold.

I stand there, shivering, watching the water spill over the tile as goosebumps raise on my skin.

I do a lot of thinking in these brief moments. When I keep the bathroom light off the fan won't turn on like a jet engine taking off, I enjoy the silence. Some days from the moment I wake up I'm bombarded with sounds. I just want to turn them off and sit in silence until my head starts making sense.

Let me be honest here. I have another blog floating around the never ending labyrinth of the internet. I started it almost a year ago thinking it would be a great outlet to begin writing again. Very slowly it became something that neither reflected who I am, nor was the outlet I was looking to create. I shied away from being myself. From talking about things that matter to me, or even just saying "fuck."

But fuck it.

I can't stop grinding my teeth. I clench my jaw, wiggling my back molars together until I feel a sensation travel down my jaw. It's not so much a feeling of pain, but more like pressure. Pressure from two points forcibly meeting. I'm waiting for the moment my teeth snap. My fillings pop out and what teeth I have crumble in to tiny pieces.

At least I'm not having the dreams where my teeth fall out. Yet.

Every day I feel as if I'm in a constant state of waiting. A hiatus. Nothing around me is real and everything is moving with the fluidity of being underwater. I'm waiting for that all defining "Ah-ha!" moment where I look in front of me and realize which direction I want to take. How I'm feeling. What I want to do. Today, tomorrow, or for the rest of this eternity I have in my hand. Who am I?

Maybe a little silence is all I need.

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