Monday Night. I still can't say what I want.

You've passed me by enough times to drive a tractor crazy, and still I haven't said hello. Flashes of laughter race my thoughts as I imagine what could happen. Glimpses of sadness drown my head, I can only hope and wish that I could swim. I dreamt that maybe, possibly, everything I feel might pass to you through a hug. There you go, strolling by. I can feel in your stride, that you feel me too. The possibility of hi and how are you seem as shallow as a ditch, and as far from sight as lake michigan. Still I haven't said hello and still everything that could be won't. Never will the torment cease to be until I just say howdy.

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My eyes are closed, my mind is open. All conscience flows out my ears and fills the room. The awareness of movement, the awareness of sound until finally the walls cannot hold my internal perception. I see beyond the body, beyond the soul, and I gaze deeply at the birch outside my window. I gaze curiously at the rabbit racing fear as though the terrifying grill of a vicious dog. In through the nose flows suffering, filling my lungs with the dark ominous life. Out through my nostrils rushes compassion, a million miles an hour and a pause to admire the clouds.

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I dreamt one day, that I could think nothing personal. The next day I believed I could think about everything outside myself. With the next mornings awakening I felt from every cell of my body, that I is no longer there is only us. By the night I could not shake the feeling that something was wrong and I could do nothing. My back, I feel as though I cannot feel. My spine, I know the twists that come should bring something. My head, is filled with nonsense to the brim and an obsession with the future. I dreamt that night, that anything was possible and in the morning I could feel that nothing is forever. Nothing is everything.