A mad woman's head

At one point in life everything that once made sensee to you will seem like nonsense. The truth is that though life is with infinte possibilities, it follows patterns. Like going to bed with the lights on, to find that when you wake up they've all been switched off.

Have you given a thought as to what emotions were felt, when the words were said? Ask yourself why somone who takes care of your needs, receives so little mention in your life Or have you really taken care of them at all?

How many times has he told you that he still needed you at all? Or is he waiting for those phone calls to stop? Has he hinted to you slowly more and more that he wanted you out of his life? When will you face up to the truth? And stop seeking confirmation of the fact that your in denial?

Do you love anyone at all? Or did you make it up like God, the Devil and everything such? Are there really so many questions that need answers to? When did you change from being the girl that wrote cursive to the one that learnt not to use it?

Let me take it to our little teacher who will tell me what this is, what this all means. This is what we did in Slim River land, mornings and afternoons alone to think of things that would make me understand the person I was becoming.

And when I became her, all I could do was wonder what had happened to the person that I used to be. Making conversations with people who were not even there, putting myself into social situations that never happened, and when they did, to find out my practice and response were inadequate.

Living through the emotions of other people by imbibing their music and their work, imersing myself into another world, created by words strung by a more creative mind that myself. Can we end it? End what is ending, faster, quicker and harder than the real end?