Brambles of a restless mind

Just a collection of thoughts, opinions and poetic snippets I came up with. Some of them I might extend into proper stories most of them probably not. At the moment most of this is qued and from a while ago. I'm just going through my notes to see what I have on hand.

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

I didn't get raised

I sprouted in a forest of songs and stories.

Fantasies, worlds full of magic and wonder.

I grew up in other people's heads.

Learned their tells not mine

Became friends with their companions.

I made my home in the transition of scenes,

In the space between narratives and POV's.

Just to find that I had become a stranger in my own universe, my family, my body.

I don't know how to live here

And so, I return to the safety of words and pictures.

Hoping, not even to be happy, but at least to be content.

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

French sounds like soft, sanded down pebbles of ocean glass

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

Oh god why am I feeling things now?

It's foggy out, of course I feel things

It's like the fog shrouding my heart and chest gets pulled aside or lightens any time the weather bears it's resemblance 

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

Some short hours on a train

How is it, that I can relax here more than I can even at home?

Of course I'm not entirely at ease, don't dare to make too much noise, don't dare pulling out my food when there is someone sitting next to me

but there is a peace about knowing that there is nowhere to go for a few more hours

almost like a grace period from life's responsibilities.

Of course I could do something and be productive

but am I not already moving towards my destination?

At least my mind is quiet about it while I sit here.

music replacing any unbidden thought

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

I know I have my backpack

Feel the weight it puts on my bad shoulder

And still

I can not help but check

My fingers searching for the strap

Where it digs into the jacket

It's there, and I focus back into the real world 

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

Tell me: how do you feel

'I'm fine' you say 'a little tired maybe'

I nod

That wasn't what I asked

I asked how does one feel

How do you do it

But I nod and move on

It would be too awkward

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

A scream.

Ringing through the silence and echoing from the walls of invisible hallways.

within seconds they were on their feet again. Running.

Disregarding the lack of a floor. Anything to get away from that monster, from that corps

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

I feel like my eyes look sad

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

I don't know if I should think my thoughts better or worse than those ones

Cause what I think of is less permanent, less harm done

But it is the kind of thought I might actually act on.

And I don't but you don't know that.

Because you know I might and that is worse than not knowing

Nobody would have to know. You wouldn't know if I don't tell you. Why should I care about the opinion of someone who will never find out?

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

I'm a poet by nature

Everything I say has to have some kind of ring to it and that is beautiful

Until I can not ask for help without sounding like I'm much worse off than I could ever admit

I can not tell you how I'm doing

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

Sometimes i don't recognize the voice that speaks from me

it rings shrill in my silence

Covers when i turn mute

Gets louder the farther away I am

It shares opinions I never thought of before

Whether I agree with them is often hard to say

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

My generation is drowning in the history happening right now but thousands of miles away; so of course we're gonna dive into different universes and stories. There, at least, we have a sense of knowing that it's not gonna happen to us. At least, there we choose what fills our lungs and steals our breath and we can see that it doesn't have to be fear, or desperation, or sadness,or apathy.

At least, there we know a happy ending is feasible.

Here, I feel, many of us don't think it is.

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

A heaviness settled into his bones. Upon waking up it felt like mere dust or snow. Something, resting loosely but definitely there. Only once he'd try moving did he notice how much this something actually weighs. Pressing his limbs down with a pressure building slowly but steadily. A little bit heavier every day. Until it felt nigh insurmountable.

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

Energy drink

The flavour of stevia hit my tongue and clung to the back of my throat. A faint taste of that strange chemical, wannabe strawberry ghosted around my mouth. But most of all the energy drink tasted like tiredness. And since like attracts like, it pulled all the tension from around my eyes, making it easier to keep them open. It drained the density out of my limbs and spun it to a threat, rolling it up to a ball of weariness induced yarn and deposited it on top of the back of my throat, where only a few, weakened yawns managed to flee, only to be quickly  repressed.

A few minutes later, small sparks began flickering up only to be stomped out immediately; leaving a slightly burning sensation behind. It reminded me of alcohol but slightly lower and way less intense. 

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

Desks

There's something weird about sitting on a writing desk that doesn't belong to you, or is in a foreign room. It feels like opening a door to a garden you've never seen and can't wait to explore. Like it still holds the weight of every book that was once placed on it. Like you could somehow make every drawing made on it visible, everything that was written on it readable again. Every mark in the wood, or a lack thereof, tells a story and of habits the user might have.

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

For  me, prague was a city of music. The first thing that really stood out to me. But it wasn't a specific type of music. It was the presence of it, the fact that all the time, I could hear it.

Be it the radio or a playlist, played in a bar, restaurant or café; or just one of the many street musicians, I could always hear something. At least; it seemed like it.

The second thing that stuck with me were the many cobbled sidewalks. Sporting simple mosaic patterns in dark grey, white and a dull, dark red.

While not very suited for the rainy weather, they looked just nice and somehow made the streets look much older than they probably are.

[bramblesofarestlessmind]

He doesn't know what else to do and so he cries

He clings to Arthur and he cries, violent sobs wreaking his body, tears flowing like twin rivers.

Arthur holds him in turn, just anchors his friend as best as he can, preparing to be here for a while. Not for the world would he rather be anywhere else.

To his surprise they're not there for long. Not at all

It can't have been more than two, maybe three minutes when, as quickly as the floodgates had opened. The rivers dried. The near figure in his arms stilled. Any noise cut off at once.

"'m sorry" spoke a voice, muffled into his chest but way more composed than could be expected from someone bawling their eyes out mere seconds ago.