My brain won’t turn off. I’ve been home all day drowning in some stress buried below the levels of consciousness like the book that was buried below the levels of laundry. It helped me clean and rearrange my room, which really needed it; probably, the physical manifestation of an internal chaos (or I’m just sloppy).
That didn’t help.
I mean, it sorted something out in there. A few surface level and tension level components that led to a short-lived relief. Briefly, but still no joy on uncovering what has me at this keyboard during the witching hour; some unknown demon lurking deep in my psyche maybe.
Yet, here we are still.
Thoughts flooded my mind as I was tossing and turning to the sounds of some nature show in the background. Whales sing peacefully. A show that usually puts me to sleep. Must be blue light, maybe.
An idea here. An elaborate plan there. Some haunting recollection. Mostly, I think a question lingering carries the buzzing frequency of thought that is as agitating as the summer gnat flying in one’s ear.
Why am I like this?
Whatever. I’m going to stare at the ceiling in the dark because, at least, lights have an off switch.