Moments and Mind-Fucks

There’s a moment created organically and you realize you’ve been waiting for that weird thing to surface. You didn’t know you were waiting for it until it appeared, but when it did you laughed and got so excited to wait for the next new weird thing to be discovered. Only, you find yourself in one instant completely enjoying the moment and in the next questioning everything else. Nervous with anxiety created by moments that involve everything but you; the flapping wings of a thousand butterflies resting in your throat and floating around your stomach waiting for the perfect – or worst - moment to flit and flutter and burst. So uncomfortable with the thought that I may be competing for time...or just the last option in a litany of items on a to-do: The list is fine; I just want to be at the top of it. And I want to verbalize it all, but realize it always just comes out wrong.

Sometimes I feel the best way to get what you are looking for is to offer what you wish to receive. I’m beginning to think I offer too much and too soon and I make it too easy and I seem too open, and that makes me slightly terrified. Perhaps, so frightened I feel like my eyelashes could fall out and choke me. (Now if that’s not fucking terrifying, I don’t know what is.) And all I want to do is sit back and enjoy these moments - simple - but I panic or fixate or...something. God damnit!

And that thing, that weird thing that made me go “Holy shit, wee!, there it is,” and you have those things too and I’m finding them! Where are mine? Have you found mine? Do you want to? But over the tears of laughter, in the moments to myself to think and baffle and mind-fuck myself, I realize that I'm apprehensive to be excited for something so silly. That, that weird new discovery, delighting in tears, is probably just a weird thing to you. And it feels as though I’m at the bottom of a list – you know, convenient for whenever you can pencil me in - and I am so much more than that; I am worth a pen at the number three spot...at least.

I have my pen.
(In this moment, it loosely dangles from my fingers...)