Find Your Release
Do you ever just sit there holding your breath, waiting for that moment of clarity, but it doesn’t come? What do you do? I write. That’s how I exhale. I write and write and write until confusing syntax and tangled emotions lightly brush against logic. Then I pause. I now have this sense of lucidity again. Control. I can choose to stop or keep going. I write. If you don’t cry, then *bleed. If you don’t bleed, exhale. No exhale? Then at least fart. Find your release.
*From knitting or restoring an old car—not from self-inflicted wounds.