Let me be empty and weightless

It's the one sided conversations in the dead of night that bring you to your knees. That replicate and amplify all the things you try to deny during daylight hours, hanging off the fringes of conversations, milling in the crowd. I'm not sure when I stopped fighting, when I started caring again, but I hope it's not a permanent regression to things that have been; issues that have long since been dealt with, filed, and locked in cabinet S3, up the stairs and first door to the left of the cerebral cortex. I feel no need to revist such things. Yet it happens to the best of us they say, let it go, let it breathe. It's everywhere and we'll never be free. Melancholy that wraps itself around you like a blanket, obscuring the horizon like the fog that characterises my drives to work. But some days there's nothing you want more, nothing you need more, than a warm blanket to curl up with on the couch. The type, whether colour or texture, seems rather inconsequential in the face of that need. Let it take you, and let it come, no rhyme or reason required. Cuddling close, you hold on to the defining aspects, the things that seem more important than anything else for reasons you can no longer completely fathom, and you remember they're worth fighting for, regardless of where that leaves you, on the fringes of conversations, just milling in crowd. No apologies, no obligations.

"I don't want to have to argue with people, just to be myself.”

Music: Angel - Sarah McLaghlan
Mood: Pensive