Walking Through Just Another Snowfall
Mar. 3rd, 2015 09:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowkatPlodding home from work through yet another snow fall, gentle clumps of white gradually turning to shooting sleet, various thoughts begin to flit and float through my head. Some painful yet clumsily discarded. Others soft but not quite taking root as the painful ones ricochet off the pavement. Like the snow fluttering around me before it becomes sleet, hammering my coat, but not sticking. Instead ricocheting off the pavement, upwards. Hitting nose. Cheeks. And mouth.
Nerves are frazzled, I think from too much chocolate? Been drinking it off and on all day, unsweetened coco flavored with a dash of half-and-half milk. My weakness and substitution for coffee, it does the trick, keeps me awake and focused, but also by the end of the day frazzled and edgy. Snappish. But I cover it well. Say nothing. I hide it inside my eyes and in the cut of a soft but narrow smile, twisted at an angle.
I wonder as I wonder as I wonder what makes other people tick. Why they like what they like and hate what they hate...often with no discernible rhyme or reason or pattern in it that I can see. Their opinions hitting me like the sleet hammering my coat, as my own words fall down on them like the snow, not sticking, not understood. Or floating by, soft and intangible, snowflakes to the earth. As if we are occupying different planes or geographies - where the weather patterns are hardly comparable. Reduced to speaking to each other through black and white kaleidoscopes.
These thoughts and others flit and float across my mind, disappearing before I can quite grasp hold of them, leaving only the uncertain and uneasy emotions behind. Making me crave things I shouldn't. Falling into old and painful patterns. Wanting wanting wanting to hammer at the internet. Beat it into shape. Past responses, long deleted or ignored. To rant. To rave. To whine. To beg. Arguing arguing arguing my points and counterpoints inside my head. Two trail attorneys going at it over a pumpkin seed. A pumpkin seed?
See see see see....it's like this this this this. No no no. Disagree disagree. Stop. Start. Make sense.
Words are out of place. Thoughts misread. Jumbled. Emotions garbled. A button pushed. A gun fired. Words become bullets. Misfired. Misdirected. Hammering hammering hammering home.
Communication out of place. Somehow. Please understand me. Je ne'comprendez pas? Language mangled.
Yet, this, I think, is only snowfall. Sticking here. Not there. Melting soon. The endless winter, of white and gray and cold. But only here today. And gone tomorrow.
These words randomly chosen and typed upon a page mean nothing. Unless you too are plodding through the snowfall. Staring through a gray and black and white kaleidoscope. At a dot. A spot. In the nether. In the net.
Thoughts flit. Forgotten. Hold on to what matters. Let go of the rest. Let go go go.
Drive through it. Plod softly. The wind against my cheeks. The snow tickling my nose.
All is forgiven. Forgotten. Washed clean. Except of course what sticks. White soon to turn grimy and gray on the streets and sidewalks that I trudge across every day. Yet gone gone gone as soon as sunlight streaks across a blue sky, and the temperatures rise...melting the snow, giving way, to the pitter-pat of cleansing rain.
Nerves are frazzled, I think from too much chocolate? Been drinking it off and on all day, unsweetened coco flavored with a dash of half-and-half milk. My weakness and substitution for coffee, it does the trick, keeps me awake and focused, but also by the end of the day frazzled and edgy. Snappish. But I cover it well. Say nothing. I hide it inside my eyes and in the cut of a soft but narrow smile, twisted at an angle.
I wonder as I wonder as I wonder what makes other people tick. Why they like what they like and hate what they hate...often with no discernible rhyme or reason or pattern in it that I can see. Their opinions hitting me like the sleet hammering my coat, as my own words fall down on them like the snow, not sticking, not understood. Or floating by, soft and intangible, snowflakes to the earth. As if we are occupying different planes or geographies - where the weather patterns are hardly comparable. Reduced to speaking to each other through black and white kaleidoscopes.
These thoughts and others flit and float across my mind, disappearing before I can quite grasp hold of them, leaving only the uncertain and uneasy emotions behind. Making me crave things I shouldn't. Falling into old and painful patterns. Wanting wanting wanting to hammer at the internet. Beat it into shape. Past responses, long deleted or ignored. To rant. To rave. To whine. To beg. Arguing arguing arguing my points and counterpoints inside my head. Two trail attorneys going at it over a pumpkin seed. A pumpkin seed?
See see see see....it's like this this this this. No no no. Disagree disagree. Stop. Start. Make sense.
Words are out of place. Thoughts misread. Jumbled. Emotions garbled. A button pushed. A gun fired. Words become bullets. Misfired. Misdirected. Hammering hammering hammering home.
Communication out of place. Somehow. Please understand me. Je ne'comprendez pas? Language mangled.
Yet, this, I think, is only snowfall. Sticking here. Not there. Melting soon. The endless winter, of white and gray and cold. But only here today. And gone tomorrow.
These words randomly chosen and typed upon a page mean nothing. Unless you too are plodding through the snowfall. Staring through a gray and black and white kaleidoscope. At a dot. A spot. In the nether. In the net.
Thoughts flit. Forgotten. Hold on to what matters. Let go of the rest. Let go go go.
Drive through it. Plod softly. The wind against my cheeks. The snow tickling my nose.
All is forgiven. Forgotten. Washed clean. Except of course what sticks. White soon to turn grimy and gray on the streets and sidewalks that I trudge across every day. Yet gone gone gone as soon as sunlight streaks across a blue sky, and the temperatures rise...melting the snow, giving way, to the pitter-pat of cleansing rain.