the yearning to dust

What I currently need, is merely space. And, well, probably a little more time for self-reflective session. My thought has been interfacing nothing, but exposure. For all my life, I dedicate some part for superficial exposure, with things underneath left without intrusion. These past weeks, still in my strive to keep the discounted area wide enough and well recognized (as last year there was time in which that area was forcefully pushed inwards, and there it went, my senseless coping mechanism), I see and let too many hands in.

I can’t neglect how those hands have been toning colors up, but they each have own ways of embracing and flicking, and all of a sudden I feel like being polarized to many directions at one time.

While too many occurrences have happened unobserved, or not yet well-learnt, having just that lots of beaks wetting in the stream inside kicked myself in the current small chaos.

Please, I need space, and a moment, to digest.
To breathe in.
To formulate choices and be conscious in doing so.
To pick the questions I want to focus in.
To cross out the opportunities (the ‘tricks’) that will leave me feeling guilty.
To convert movements and sugary sweets into thoughts that roar.
To read with passion.
To sit down and be able to find out just the tight keywords.
To be ready to again have my brain as dry sponge.
To just re-comprehend to stop in every changing-of-the-day before restarting the engine.
To remember the divine intervention, and then feel dependent and protected.
And finally to see what comes next after I open both eyes…