My Dreams are Dreaming Me
Rachel C
My life is in chronological order, but my mind doesn't work that way. I spend so much time contemplating the clouds, once I wake back up to life I'm so far behind or too far ahead I miss the present, I miss what is happening now. I miss the signs until I catch up and contemplate them later. I anticipate words that are too far away to actually hear. Nobody is ever prepared for the present; nobody expects what is happening right now. And I see so much of every time surrounding, I lose track of what time it is now. I don't hear what you're saying until you're on your way to complete your life. And I'm so thoughtful I tend to slow it down. I slow us all down, tire us out, and while you're sleeping, I jump ship to another period, sometime when you don't exist, and I am deep in the life I am not prepared for yet.
I don't know why I do this, though the comfort could explain it. The present is awkward, you don't exist any time else, and I don't move quick enough to say the right thing today. So I say it tomorrow, but you aren't in my head, not the way I wish you were. And no one ever hears exactly what I have to say. If I say it today, It will come out wrong, and I'll lose the chance to make it up tomorrow, and my mind will shift to focus on the past.
I'm not prepared for the present; I'm not prepared to move in chronological order. But I don't have control of time, not even the time in my head.
July 15, 2007
Rachel C
My life is in chronological order, but my mind doesn't work that way. I spend so much time contemplating the clouds, once I wake back up to life I'm so far behind or too far ahead I miss the present, I miss what is happening now. I miss the signs until I catch up and contemplate them later. I anticipate words that are too far away to actually hear. Nobody is ever prepared for the present; nobody expects what is happening right now. And I see so much of every time surrounding, I lose track of what time it is now. I don't hear what you're saying until you're on your way to complete your life. And I'm so thoughtful I tend to slow it down. I slow us all down, tire us out, and while you're sleeping, I jump ship to another period, sometime when you don't exist, and I am deep in the life I am not prepared for yet.
I don't know why I do this, though the comfort could explain it. The present is awkward, you don't exist any time else, and I don't move quick enough to say the right thing today. So I say it tomorrow, but you aren't in my head, not the way I wish you were. And no one ever hears exactly what I have to say. If I say it today, It will come out wrong, and I'll lose the chance to make it up tomorrow, and my mind will shift to focus on the past.
I'm not prepared for the present; I'm not prepared to move in chronological order. But I don't have control of time, not even the time in my head.
July 15, 2007
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