Friday, September 12, 2003

Talking head

Sometimes I find myself talking, talking. I'm playing out the role I have: my job, being a husband, a father. And I'm realising that I have no desire to continue the talking that I'm doing. I feel helpless and utterly lonesome.
What do we do when the words are speaking us? Sometimes I want to turn my back, and I lose my sureness that turning my back would even be wrong. That sureness is what keeps you going though. I wish I could replace it.
I know I'm not making sense. I'm just talking, talking.


Post a Comment

<< Home