Clutter

There's a lot of clutter in my mind... just as there are a lot of clutter around me. A half empty glass of cheap wine, an ashtray, a pen, a couple of pieces of torn paper, piles of unfinished documents, a box of cookies, a hairbrush, a pair of glasses, cords running from whereever to whereever, walls that needed fresh paint, a statuette of St. Joseph, an old calendar with red X's and notes of what-nots... and the list goes on. 

If I were to list all the clutter around me, it would take me forever. If I were to compare each clutter to the clutter in my brain, it would take me a minute. Because my head is one big clutter. 

The screensaver on my computer is a display of running pipes that move in different directions. Just are the thoughts that occupy my mind -- they travel to different directions. Here, there, everywhere.

It's pathetic. I feel pathetic.

I want to clear my head of the clutter, but I keep making the clutter. I cannot seem to rid myself of the mess that drags on and on and on. When will it stop? When will it ever?

Sometimes I feel like I am my soul, outside looking in. I see myself in this box, like a mouse trapped in a maze. If this mouse were smart enough to find its way out of the mess, that would have been dull. So I watch the mouse try to figure out which is the way out -- if there is ever a way out. 

Now I'm talking nonsense. Hah! I just feel like talking nonsense. Because I haven't written for a while. So write I will, even if only to fill up half this space. I'd be happy.

I am happy, but I am not really. I continually contradict myself. I say yes and I say no. I say do and I say don't. I say go and I say stop.

I want to disappear. Like a bubble. But then again, I am afraid -- that if I disappear, I may never re-appear. Like a bad dream. I try to run as fast as I can, but I am not getting any farther from where I stand.

I don't even know what I'm talking about. I'm frazzled. I'm perturbed. Of what? I don't know. I am totally clueless. I just feel what I feel. 

Back to the clutter. If I put these little things away... these things that clutter my sight, maybe I'd see some light. But then again, maybe I do not want to see the light. I feel safe in the dark. If I don't see anything, it cannot hurt me, can it?