string of conscious

there are times in your life when you just feel so inside yourself. or maybe that's just me. i'm searching deep in there, though. and i'm trying to find a way out. a reason. to get back out and become part of the world. i guess it just is me trying to fix the miss match that i feel inside. like you have to straighten your own room before you clean the rest of your house. and you feel this urge to do something.. and this whole time i'm just sitting with my stomach growling on a full stomach as ben howard croons softly over his guitar. that's how my life feels sometimes. i can't hear exactly what he's saying. i can feel the overall vibe of it all though. and i know that he wants what i want. he wants to somehow reach into you. to make you feel something that you weren't even sure that you could feel. and then my stomach growls again and i'm wondering if it's a sign. "as steady as the stars" how it would be to have that certainty. i feel like i'm growling at my life. it's there. it's full of knowledge and people and things to do and things to laugh at and people to laugh with. why am i growling? why do my feet itch for different ground. for different air. "grow old, grow old" says ben. "steady as the flowers"

there are things that move you. maybe i don't want to be a person. maybe i want to be a feeling. maybe i want to be a smile. maybe i want to be a tone in a voice. the beat of a song that just makes you want to dance. i want to be the catalyst for action. the moment in your brain when an idea is formed. when the action is next.

chanel is talking next to me. just soft nothings. what's on her mind. what she's reading. something about blankets and a bug. my stomach growls. something new. it says. let me run. let me sing loud loud. let me find the rain. let it hit my skin and let me not care. i feel on the edge of something. a discovery, an epiphany. a turn  of who i am. i am who i was yesterday. i am who i was two years ago. but more than anything, i am who i am right now. and that's been added on to the top of it all. like a glaze. the underlayers still there, but the color on top being the one everyone sees. sometimes i feel like i chip though. and my younger tendencies poke through. 

i have the sudden urge to just grab that plate, or pot, or bowl or vase or whatever i am and just smash it. watching those pieces fly everywhere would just give me such a satisfying feeling. 

my stomach growls.