In the quietude of total solitude, early morning in the office-conditioner humming, still trying to arrange my mind to meet
this day; still looking for comforting thoughts with which to
attack the documents on my desk; still trying to decide which
fantasy to apply to enlarge the weary limits of reality; still
caught in the nightmares of last night – hubby had to wake
me as I was calling out for help – wishing I could run away
From the thick mistiness enveloping my brain, all sockets
and circuits blocked; wishing I could reread Douglas Adam’s
Thanks For All The Fish – and share his irreverent take
on life, the universe and everything… maybe I should take
my purse and just set off somewhere until the gyroscope
in my mind is straight, until the periscope through which
the alien in my head watches the outside world has been
blessed with feelings sweet; until the dream that eludes
me now comes alive and fills the empty holes in my thoughts
with the sweetness of other dimensions in which happy
souls are filled with light and meaning, in which frolicking
clowns are telling jokes and sharing their comedies with
me, in which reality falls away to reveal the beauty and
wonder underneath…
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