Friday, January 1, 2010
"In The Lap" - because no matter what I reach out to touch with my fiery fingers, I know where I reach from. Grounded in the lap of security, contentment, privilege and love. Still, I save my right to complain. And I will complain. And I will change my mind. Often. Optimistic enough to think it an open mind as opposed to hypocrisy. Still, I save my right to be a hypocrite. In the lap I will be when my mind wanders. I just pray it will continue to return. Still, I save my right to be crazy. Writing is a cathartic art where creativity feels like an exhale of breath that I can float away on. Something intrinsic and personal made open to the universe, like a spread of wings on a thought. Someone may catch, someone may connect, and that's why I read. Why I write? Because I can't seem not to. It relaxes me more than gin and listens to me like a friend. It expunges tears and wrings out emotion. It may not be worth mentioning, or reading to some at all, but I save my right to write. For in writing, I remind myself not only that I am alive, but to live.