Fly or Sleep

"Oh, that I had wings like a dove, I would fly away and be at rest." King David of Israel once lamented when he was betrayed by a friend and violent enemies surrounded him. When our situation becomes uncomfortable, it's normal to want to escape from it. My coast is clear, my feathers unruffled, so why am I always wanting to escape?

Flight, wings, departure. Three words I like - it gives me the illusion that I am going somewhere. I don't have to have less-than -suitable situations for me to want to escape. I am always wanting to escape. From what? I don't know. Maybe from myself. Chat is always trying to bail me out from myself; buying me vacations, flying me to anywhere but here and supplying me with books to transport my mind to imagined places - places void of agitation. But agitation is good, it's what perfects the pearl. Agitation is good. No need to depart. Perfection is flawed.

Writing my book is cathartic for me; it helps me sort out and purge emotions but it also brings unwanted memories to the surface. Memories that sucks the life out of me. I am one of those writers who hates rereading what I have written, because I write only as the energy, the muse dictates. When that force leaves, the written words stares at me bland and lifeless. Bland. Lifeless. Metaphor of my life.

Flight. Wings. Departure. Agitation. Sleep in the clouds. Forever.