aroused

Every morning I wake up to coffee and avocado on toast and a wild heart. It's the heart that won't sit still, which sends ridiculously elaborate messages and plans to the tired brain. Wild heart, tired brain? Is that a saying? Because currently the brain can't handle the constant flow of dreams the heart creates before the sun even has a chance to rise. The brain begins to tuck itself back into bed, hoping for a dreamless sleep. Let the coffee attend to the heart's demands.

And I set my eyes to the East, to an island grossly populated with society's best and worst. I search online for a life to lead, one handed to me on some kind of velvet pillow or included in some carefully planned package. And I deserve it, do I not? I deserve to untie the knot I've tied these past four years without a problem. I deserve to be given a ticket out of the quicksand. I want it to happen quickly. I want it to happen while my brain sleeps away the day.

But that's not how it will happen. It will sneak up on me mid-bite. It will happen when my toast has gone cold and I am distracted by the light shining through the blinds. It will happen when I am busy sticking my hands underneath the water, washing away yesterday's disaster. I was too tired last night to worry about hygiene.

I am too awake today to relax into the mess. It will happen, but it won't be obvious. It will happen, but it will take work. I don't want to know where I am when it happens; I just want to know that I have arrived.

So am I about to run away? Or am I finally arriving home?