Disclaimer: fingers. typing letters onto the empty space in front me.
Me: *looks up*
What to write?
Mind: Why can't you ever write down what is going on in here? I never see a precise account articulated.
Me: But nothing ever comes out the way I want to.
Mind: Have you ever tried?
Me: You think I haven't?
Mind: Why do you let other people's perception get to you?
Me: You're what reminds me of it everytime I sit down to write.
Mind: Why does it matter to you so much how the response will be? "Art for Art's sake", perhaps?
Me: It never works like that. I'm never able to write something and be satisfied with it. Similarly, I'm never able to sing/perform something and be satisfied with it.
Mind: You know why? Because you have too many notions in here. I can't deal with so many. Too many people, significantly placed albeit, and too many perceptions, too many opinions.
Me: I don't have one of my own.
Mind: It'll come to you soon. You'll get answers.
Me: That was profound.
Mind: You underestimate me.
Me: I don't know what to overestimate or underestimate.
Mind: What is your deal, exactly?
Me: I don't know. And that's the issue.
Mind: So you want to know?
Me: No, see, I know. But I want to be able to articulate it out.
Mind: And you can't do that?
Me: Yes. Plus, I'm lost. Quote, I'm running around in circles, putting my fingers into way too many things. I don't stick to one thing, I'm not satisfied with the other.
Mind: Maybe it's time you stop and focus on one thing at a time?
Me: But if I do that, time will pass too fast, before I'll want to let it go. I'm not done with the duration of time. I have so much more to do. I have so much more to say. I have so much more to sing/ to perform. I have so much more searching to do, so many more tried-tested-failed experiences to experience. I have so many more people to meet, I have so many more compliments, so much more criticism to face. I have so many more fantastic days and alternatively so many more self-questioning days to face. So much more to learn, so much more to put to use. So much more to cry over, so much more to laugh into the pillow about.
I'm being pulled by the hands into a waiting period, for a place I'm not ready to get into. I'm sure it'll be great, but I'm not quite done here. I'm being made to finish eating the huge chocolate cake that I just started to savor.
Mind: Let it go. Go along.