Feelings. Muted. Subdued. Suppressed and controlled. Choices all around me. Reasons and questions. I live. I do. This morning I woke early, to the sound of the sun. the silence of light. A storm raged inside my head. Thoughts gathered and dispersed instantaneously. I was broken and blinded. To articulate anything at was a miracle. Not a miracle. Just an achievement. A miracle is something that can never be articulated. I fell upwards when I closed my eyes. I span, swivelled, tumbled, and turned. I was free falling. When my eyes snapped open everything would be still. Bright light and little floating sparkles filled my sight. I breathe. Deeply at first, and then extending my tongue to full stretch, I exhale strongly. I can feel pressure in my toes and fingers. They feel swollen and gigantic. Clumsy and stiff to move. My neck clicks, chock-chock-chock, as I turn my head. I am fatigue. My legs stay straight and wont obey any command to coil. A deep seeded ache in my stomach keeps me flattened. I test my movement. Slowly, pushing a little bit at a time. Always the same. Always nothing. its first light, and I am hope. In the first minutes I am sure that everything is ok. As blood flows through my body and reconnects all my functions. Small tell-tale signs tingle and flood into my mind. Awareness surfaces and everything is not ok. Everything is still broken. I sigh. I am despair. I reach out. I find the pen and the page. I turn my wrist in a spiral, I hear cracking. I remember Bart Simpson calling it the washing machine. I'm amazed I remember and smile. The pen is easy, and glides over the page. The first sentence is simple. Its what I'm feeling. Then I write something I'd been saving for days. Something that was special and that could lead me anywhere. Somewhere I wanted to go perhaps. As I write. I lose contact. I find I drift. Unintentionally to a place I have been before and like the last time I was there, its empty of what I'm searching for. I dwell in this place always. I can not escape it. It's a place that holds nothing and everything. Its ink has been used and refilled many a time. Its comfortable. No risks. I sigh again. Tomorrow I will try and find the other road. For the road to this place is disguised. Only once I arrive there do I know my bearings. Tomorrow I will try and stay my finding of this common ground. I want to find the unbeaten path. For I know it is exciting. I need to want it enough. I need to find it by instinct. To follow the light.