incommunicado

This has been a tough week, one of the hardest I can remember. I haven’t written anything, so am going back to a version of something I wrote for my dissertaton that part-way expresses how I feel.

I can’t sit, can’t think, need to walk, to ride until my day is full of movement, fill my head with the need to look where I’m going as my bike bumps down the path… move until it is time to eat, drink too much, and hope that I’ve drained every particle of energy from my body, that sleep slams into me as I fall on the bed, that I don’t lie still and think …

 

Notes on my phone.

Facebook updates.

Phrases straggle across the screen.

No full sentences.

 

I have no time, no paper.

I need a new laptop.

You can’t write this for me.

 

I’m not in the right mind-set.

I can’t write when it’s winter.

I can’t write while I’m waiting

I can’t write.

 

I can’t write with you.

Can’t call you.

Can’t text you.

Can’t say it when I call.

 

My head’s too full.

I can’t walk, can’t leave, can’t think, can’t share this, can’t update my Facebook page.

 

I can’t write.

I can’t

I …