It Happens

Sitting. Agitatedly taking in the calm of creation. It’s not a
question of what comes next. I just don’t want to leave.
Procrastination welcomed by the need to remain on familiar territory.
My own self created world beacons me to stay. And so I do. Rushing a
mini fridge down the grey hallways, my unwanted puppy with a cord for
a leash, fingers holding on to corners while stairs welcome the
insecure tread of worn italian boots. Just reached twenty, damn it! I
just don’t need to live beyond your years. I digress… contaminated
air rushes out of the chisel induced puncture. Stop, open the door,
proceed while praying it won’t explode in such proximity. Out in the
back the fresh winter air gives me strength. Camera watches from
above, I pray it doesn’t explode once more. I look at it from an
unsafe distance, the fizzing subdued, I breathe the cold air.
Scenarios flash, I should mark it “unwanted”. Slight guilt keeps me
motionless for seconds. It will be ok. I return to my heaven, no loud
bangs reassuring. Another purchase looms… An emerald, a sapphire
stare at me from the wall. I can’t leave yet. I will procrastinate as
I do best. Watching seconds, years passed me by, but I’m on track,
stern, resolute lines assure me. Thank God for that. Luckily the
feeling is not just imagined anymore, it’s tangible. And so I touch it
with dehydrated hands, no lies here. Other than the future, the
present and past are known, accepted here and there as need be. And so
I wing tomorrow because I can…I still can. I sickly and secretly
enjoy my party of one. My fabricated sense of freedom and forced
belief that it’s all I need. My enigma.

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