The triumphant zeal of the nothing...

To hear the phone as the line simply stops can be amazing. Text messages allow the user so much freedom - the words are concrete, simple, and predetermined. But a conversation over a telephone has ultimate potential for good and bad.
Even the act of calling truncated by another - without any words spoken - have massive impact. It is not the message in the bottle that is a text or a tweet or a facebook post. It's the very direct hey, you, I have something to say to you. Rejection in the form of disregard or disdain to another's phone call constitutes a new experience, knowing that we all have phones within an arm's reach, if not already in our ears.
The hurt is deliciously savage and I try to remain empirical.

Unwind the mind...

There's a modern acid jazz piece with this title, can't recall the exact performer, but the title has always stuck in my mind as a perfect suggestion. I find myself to be coiled so tight as to be unable to function in a free sense. Writing words can exacerbate this feeling, or, if properly coaxed, can yield to the creative will and let spill the pent up emotion pushing so tight against one's heart that it draws the skin tight as a drum. I can thank Norah Jones for that simile - she mentions feeling as 'empty as a drum'. From further back in time, a similar idea is found in Chuang-Tzu, defining a room not so much as the four walls that encapsulate it, but the space that exists within. Indeed, is a room merely the space that we immerse ourselves within the walls? The interconnectivity of all things...

unwind unwind
as the coffee tightens the strings
Bach leaves little tidings
between compelling motifs
people mill but I cannot escape
rain kills my lover's embrace
break the till
in small business despair
this weekend of wills
this weekend to care
small brushes I shave
to get beyond the cave
with minute nervous teeth
chattering in glee
tearing into me
piranha to shreds
prana to beds
loud screams muffled
by pillows
the dreams distant like willow trees