two dimensions

Can you empty yourself onto an empty page in hopes of finding or losing yourself there?

Anything just to fill the space and unleash the inmate words from the mind's jail cell

Desperately making words appear out of nowhere, black on white, grasping at the thoughts as they fly by, unconscious, and forcing them to say something.

Having just a few makes me feel relieved to see something there, something tangible that might make sense of the nonsense that bounces and rattles in my brain, and then they grow to something bigger- something that tells me I’m not crazy after all; In fact, quite the opposite.
If I can find an audience for these festering bullshit words, I can convince someone, or more than one that I’m smart; or brilliant even.

Or at least not crazy. I'll settle for sane.

* * *

I walk back home, hoping to shake them, but they keep following me, these two goons. Depression has a firm hand on my shoulder and Loneliness harangues me with his interrogation. I don't even bother eating dinner; I don't want them watching me. I don't want to let them up the stairs to my apartment, either, but I know Depression, and he's got a billy club, so there's no stopping him from coming in if he decides that he wants to.

"It's not fair for you to come here," I tell Depression. "I paid you off already. I served my time.."

But he just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favorite chair, puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filling the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself, fully dressed, shoes and all. He's going to make me sleep with him again tonight, I just know it.

~E. Gilbert "Eat, Pray, Love"

* * *