Ruffage.

My brain is a mess. I can't sleep. My mother says it is the time change and the stress of travelling with a toddler. It could be. I prefer not to think literally right now. Literally is a kind of front door "honesty" that doesn't cover everything.

I have been missing something. I am kind of a moron and I guess in a lot of ways I am always missing something. I'm slow to the take on fancy jokes but I can pick up on the unholy ones before the slumlord even knows he was trying to make me laugh. I laugh when people say horrible things that I think are supposed to be funny. They were only meant to be a horrible thing. I knew that. I knew it before I smiled.

I do miss my muse. Don't I have a right to one? If freedom wasn't my right would I fall in line?

I am in line. I have always been in line. Even when I am scraping friends off of the shoulder. I have been lost. I knew I was in the woods. The woods are beautiful, but I am not the wood. I am not the ruffage. I am not the wet earth. I am not the bugs with sharp teeth who burrow into flesh. I am not flowers after rains. I am not a sun scratched upon by highest branches.

I am a desert with a boom box. And I am too hot to stay here.