Why is it ironic for me to find solace in chaos?
what does it mean that I find my inner quiet, surrounded by all the noise?
Is it odd my pen flows freely when I don’t need to stop and think.
But, then I remember I’m just warming up.
I love the way red light reveals just enough humanity to keep us all honest.
These nights, I’m grateful for time to myself, I’m grateful for the autonomy and freedom to be her and let my mind wander.
The occasional clarity I find in places like this make me think of other rituals performed by firelight, a reminder hidden deep in the core of my brain.
Rhythm and chanting draw my mind open, give a break to the stream of data constantly running through my mind.