Funkytown

"Won't you take me to...Funkytown?"

Trust me when I say that the funk I have been in for the past few days, you don't want to visit. Even though the place sounds kinda kinky kool...it was the pits. And I am slithering out as any slimey thing does when tossed off its feet and forced to move without limbs. I am trying to plow through my 1.5 liters of water...and I realize that I don't drink as much as I used to. The good stuff I mean, just liquids. But, I have a headache and the books say drink water...so I am. And that is good. But, difficult. I"m thirsty but not that thirsty.

I am just one of those souls that swims merrily along until I hit a jag and then I go diving into the deepest pit and feel like everything is over, even when it's just Thursday and the world seems to be plugging along. I don't weather it well when I fall off the jolly wagon. And I was a mess yesterday. Today I am better in the sense that I either want to cry or slap someone. So, just a tad bit emotional. Not normally an overly emotional person. Sensitive yes...emotional no. But yesterday, I was like a spigot and today I am either that or a bit combustive.

Isn't it funny how we can't always be who we want to be no matter how hard we try? And isn't it odd how the good of life so necessarily needs the bad? I'm still messy...but it's definitely a better day. Tomorrow, possibly the best one yet (see there's a little hope for you :)

Mechanic(s)

How do I write a love letter to you?

When you don't see me. Won't know me. Look so far into me that I can't breathe. Hesitate by the doorway waiting for me to say something perfect. Imperfect. God, I don't know.

Why do I feel like I know you when I don't know you? And why does it feel like home when you are close to me, yet we are just becoming friends?

What are you thinking, calm cool collected? Why are you watching sunsets without me? Do you know how much I want to know the things about you? Not everything. Not ever everything. Just some things. Something insignificant that not many others know. Something elementary like the way your heart sounds against my ear.

This is so hard. So difficult. And sometimes you look at me and I see it. You. A stray thought about this or that connecting thread. Other times, you just don't look and I can't understand how you stay away.

It's not love. It's not love. But, it's something real anyway. And I can't figure it out without you.