064: for the time being

Suddenly it’s overcast, but the air is soft and warm. I’ve opened the lefthand screen door. My room smells sweet and birthdayish, like it did when I was a kid––though that was a different room, in a different time––and while I feel less certain now who I am, in some ways I know I haven’t changed. I am still sensitive, stubborn, as malleable to the world as a handful of water in a chorus of waves. Still shy, afraid at night, longing always to be somewhere else and in some other time.

I stifle that feeling a lot. But with the slow, seeping spring, I feel it coming back. When the window is open, the sky soft grey, the air moving. When I am alone.

Note: This post is actually 127 words but it's fine because I don't care.