It won’t shut up! Ideas just bubbling, could say percolating, but that’s too focused. Adult ADHD? Yes, got worse with age, now struggling to read, like all those past students who couldn’t do it for me as a teacher. Never had tv as a kid, not through college, nor alone in Arizona as an adult, not until marriage was I forced to give in.

In every room screen-walls, nearly like in Bradbury’s Illustrated Man, that at anytime can show you anything in a flash, but take it away and death comes fast.

Fast-forward a few decades–

Creativity stagnant, passion dead, every night the light in bed is a documentary about something that doesn’t help. But recently, a change I didn’t expect, I’m writing and reading literature again.

My brain doesn’t shut off, but it’s not really bad. I just keep searching a purpose. Distracted, my brain and heart beat each other to the punch, where I get myself in trouble, thinking too much, wearing truth, as if it’s ok.

I know the truth. Birds don’t talk to me, yet I sware they try. By giving them words, I’m trying to fly, trying to get the fuck out of Dodge, trying to talk to my SELF because (though people surround me nearly all the time) no one else will.

But, I think this is my beginning.

I know the truth. I have to be strong. Life sans passion is typical, right? Why fight. My strength will be finding a way to help others outside of the house. I used to volunteer, may need an old bird there. I’ll read books to escape the mundane, you know, the way I used to stay sane.

Oh, what I’d do to feel wanted and skillful!

I know the truth. My chores depict my servicable skill, no one notices but they demand. As a mother, I adore my role with my whole soul. But, I wish a little lust would sprinkle in through my open doors.

How to break free? That’s the brain candy.