Sensitivity

Sometimes I feel like I belong to the darkness.

The filters were absent in my brain this morning and the winds blow across my mind and I am so… tired.

Exhausted by everything. All the colours. All the movements.

The trembling hand of the woman behind the counter as she picked up the necklace that I wanted to buy. Is she nervous? Has she ever done this before? Or did she gulp down too much coffee this morning? What is her name?

This long necklace, which I bought for a reasonable enough price, is a man-made glass called goldstone with a thick scattering of blue and gold shimmer winking out of its depths.

It could have come from the fiery mouth of a volcano, vomited outwards and cooled out of the utmost rage.

They say it has the ability to calm and give you confidence. Ambition. Which I certainly hope is the case.

Meanwhile I will sit here and do nothing and feel it sitting between my breasts, close to my heart.

–

It is important to forgive yourself.

Say it to yourself even if you can’t demonstrate it with observable action.

Say it. “I forgive you.”

It brings a certain lightness.

–

I stand there under the heavens and everything assaults me, pounds my senses to the ground with every shade of colour and every piece of broken conversation and every symbol possible- I scream

I belong to the darkness where there is nothing

Nothing at all

This is why sometimes I think death is, if not bliss, a termination of this constant overwhelm.