Introspection is exhausting. No one tells you that. No one tells you that sometimes the only way to go forward is to go backwards and deal with things.  I spend a lot of time, sometimes too much time, in my head: analyzing, worrying and trying to work out everything I think and feel. For the most part, I recognize all of the things I encounter in that emotional quagmire but every once in awhile I come across something that I just can’t quite put my finger on.

It’s hard to describe how this feels. It’s not quite an ache, more of a pull, a lure. It’s pulling me towards something inside myself, something somewhat dark, something vaguely primal. It’s feels like its pulling me towards a locked door.

But where is the key?

Every Damn Day In June

One thought on “The Lure and the Locked Door”

  1. Living; ‘on the inside‘, can be like being inside of an opaque drum that we would rather was a cocoon. It’s skin throbs with the sounds of a noise filled world while the passing flashes and shadows of hyperactivity cause involuntary sights to invade our space.

    Sometimes I feel I need a retreat, a space where I can be alone with all that I am.

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