Thinking

Every so often I look around and blink. Then I think. But really think. That’s why I only do it every so often. The rest of the time I skip about, ignoring whistling. Any more than every so often and my head might explode. Reason being that, when I really think, things somehow gain a different perspective. In the blink of an eyelid, a tiny piece of glitter on the carpet morphs into a giant unicorn prancing about and the large mountain in the distance shrinks down to a pile of spilt sugar on the kitchen table.

Unfortunately, on the flipside, the smallish black hole beside it opens its gaping mouth baring sharp teeth, saliva dripping, and takes a deep breath that finds me whirling around toward it, sucked deep, like that little piece of glitter on the carpet, but into the ghastly vacuumcleanerblackhole.

I realise suddenly that I have a lot to think about. Okay, it’s not suddenly, I’ve known it all along, but I’ve been ignoring it, leaving it there on the floor, little sprinkles of glitter. It’s time to look beneath the glitter. I’m sure it’ll be good for me. Well, maybe. Or not.

I always read back these posts and think to myself, good grief, anybody reading this must think I’m the drama queen from hell. Maybe I am, but it’s my private thoughts vomited on paper and I’m trying SO hard to be honest.

I. Need. A. Holiday.