Dec 3, 2009


Nothing I want to say ever comes out right.
The words get stuck in my throat, get caught in the tiny crevices of my teeth, and never see the light of day. Spit or swallow. Nine times out of ten I will swallow, and the words make their way back down my body, and churn uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.
I am not as graceful as I imagine, or as confident.
Sometimes I sit in my seat in class and contemplate getting up to throw something away, or use the bathroom for ten whole minutes. I don't why I do this, I just know that I do, and I wish I didn't.
I am not as good at casual conversation as I appear to be. While you're talking, and I am nodding my head, I am racking my brain for what to say next.
The bottom line is I am a lot of things, and I am not a lot of things, and this chasm is ripping me apart at the seams.
At night when I lay my head on my pillow, the person I will one day be runs rampant through my dreams.
But one day is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and when you try and touch a rainbow it slips between your fingers.
I am real. I am not someday, or somewhere.
I am here. I am now. And that's more than enough.

1 comment:

Nitin said...

you are you.. and that , imperfectly just right. :D. stay that way.