Mine

I've been writing a lot lately. I think it's because I've forgotten how to talk. I'm out with so many people so often but being involved with their conversations just takes too much effort. Words that need to be pronounced. Sentences that require careful construction so as not to make a fool of yourself. To further enforce the fact that - I am here, I am relevant. But I no longer feel here anymore. The here being where I was last night. The physical sits in a chair and tries its best to play a role, but it has forgotten all its lines. The I is somewhere else, a million miles away from the endless chatter and occasional laughter that permeates the night air. After awhile they ask questions like: "What's wrong?" and "What's gotten into you?" Questions I find ignorant and careless coming from people who assume they have an understanding of who you are. They are bewildered by this impostor in their midst, who has inhabited my body but is not acting like the me that they have come to categorise, label and accept. The impostor stares back through vapid eyes and again struggles with its diction - excuses are croaked out, even apologies are made which fills it with a resentment directed both inward and outward. After what seems like a long while the I starts to return to the physical - the fact of being here and being now. It feels itself breathing and it feels its toes stretch out. It starts to smile and will even try to lengthen its replies upon being asked a question. They see this of course and welcome back the friend they all know so well. It starts talking even though it has nothing to say. The words will come they always do. Even if they're not the right ones. We somehow always make do.

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Today's set meal comes with free dessert! Choose from either:

The Blues Are Sill Blue - Belle&Sebastian

or

Blue Skies - Noah And The Whale