whirly bird

i'm transitioning. from thoughts, jobs, ideas, friends. i'm making plans and fearing them. i'm tending to my roots and contemplating rootlessness. maybe restlessness is my natural resting state. i mean, aren't we all on a quest for rest? my quirky peace just might be found way inside my whirling insides. places of questions marks and immovable truths. corners of the mind, caverns of the heart, shadows of the soul. tick tock thump thump. it's rhythmic, this rocking between contradictions. i know and feel everything. to the core. too much.


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