a pocketful of mumbles
such are promises
all lies and jests
still a man hears what he wants to hear
and disregards the rest
I have a headful of buzzing bees, never pleasant when I should be sleeping. It’s been a long day, and I’m especially tired after having run this morning. Some days unfold such that the intervening hours dampen the tiredness, but tonight the effect has stretched its long arm across the length of the day to reach me here.
I feel like I have so much to say but it’s all fragmented. I rarely figure things out by talking about them–I’ve never been that kind of person, at least not initially. What tends to work the best is retreating, pondering the situation for a little while until I’ve figured out how I’m feeling and tied those emotions to specific causes, at which point I may "present my findings" to a willing ear and they can then assist in sorting the rest of it out (if they’re so inclined). The alternative to all that, or at least something which helps a great deal, is simply to find someone who understands how I’m feeling–it saves the trouble of having to explain myself (not that I mind under most circumstances but when there’s something weighing on me the stakes are a bit higher) and I can just focus on the particulars of the situation.
This is all very vague; I know. Normally at this point I would hide behind some hackneyed poetry or half-prose, but it feels like ages since I’ve done any of either and, well, I dunno… I think I’m staying in the meta-data tonight.