I chew the words I want to say, over and over in my mouth until they become flavorless – like bazooka bubblegum. Flashes of thoughts leave spots in front of my eyes. I’m left to wonder how the picture will turn out. I feel as if I could just float away, if it wasn’t for that gum stuck to my shoe. Flash – there again, there are days when everything seems so fragmented I’m left to wonder how I got to this place. These sorts of days have few choices in the direction to go.

Today the deafening silence of my brain beings to crackle as it tunes into a song. I close my eyes to turn up the volume and drown out the rest of the world around. Then I dance. The maddening movement might make me look insane, but no one’s around to watch anyways. If you dance with your eyes closed long enough your head begins to feel both as a rock and weightless at the same time. And I’m wishing to be weightless. The mad dancing makes your heart race and helps remind you that somewhere deep down you are really alive. Nothing else matter at that point.

Until the flash – dancing drunk-walking in the parking lot, and my heart kicks back like that first time I looked an extra foot up and into blue. And the needle scratches painfully off the record as I’m forced back to the grounded silence of my own voice narrating in my head and the sound of the taffy words I keep chewing and can’t spit out.