“God, how I ricochet between certainties and doubts.” -Sylvia Plath


Tuesday, you’re eager to engulf me. The sun and the birds seduce and entrance me, the commotion of the day tempt me, greedy to reel me in.

I think I’m going to stay here for a while, though.

I’m sitting just above the hustle of the crowd, overlooking hurried movements of the students beneath me; I’m more than pleased to sit still.

Today, a part of me is somewhere else entirely. Today, I’m standing on damp beach sand, waiting for the waves to return back inland, anticipating the cool tease of the water lapping up just over my toes.

My eyes are full and focused on the expanse before me, I’m letting myself fall into the hues of pinks and oranges in the sky, mesmerized by their development into one another.

My mind doesn’t sit and rest anywhere particularly. I feel present and empty. There’s a deep release where tension used to surround me, suffocating me. I have no obligations, no commitments. No expectations, no residual remorse. There’s disconnection where I’m standing, I’m bound only to my own being.

I’m not pulled in any direction. There’s suddenly no need to worry or await. Both the past and the future are irrelevant.

Maybe I’ll stay.



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