Amongst the Gray
Monday meets me with a softness I wasn’t expecting. I think it could be because this week is so short. I only have to get through today and tomorrow, and then I’m off for the rest of the week, free to do what I please (within reason.)
Wednesday night I’m attending the open mic I’ve been going to for the last few months. While I still don’t want to read, I’m looking forward to listening and watching those who are brave enough to share themselves with strangers. Sometimes I think I could read one of these entries, but what would the point of that be? Release, I guess? I go from thinking what I write has meaning to questioning the point of all my thoughts. Even sitting amongst the gray, I often find discomfort.
Despite the softness that edges around the day, there’s a block in my mind. I’m not going to try and remove it, or find a way around it. I’ll simply acknowledge it and rest my back against its cool surface.
