Aching Skin and Kisses.

So, what am I searching for as I stare blankly at Facebook? What deep seated soul feeding am I not doing? Well, there’s a lot of that I’m not doing, but why do I think floating through cyberspace will help? Because it doesn’t. How did people waste their lives before the internet, t.v, and radio? Newspapers?! Tumbleweed. Just good ol’ sitting around? 

I want to nourish myself, somehow. What does that look like? What does contentment, healthy contended existence look like? What did it used to look like for me, and did I ever have it? As a child, no doubt, living in the present moment. The present. The breath. That’s all. It’s all here. As close as my eyelashes. 

I keep checking Facebook, hoping that the little red letter symbol will be lit up, that someone will reach out to me, to stroke my aching skin and soothe the burn. Aching is one of my favourite words. I ache. This is true, the truest thing, it seems. I want onion pakoda. I want a world I recognize. I ate two bowls of Cheerios today. My socks smell. Day hospital was mostly boring. I want to crawl into bed forever. There is someone I desperately want to kiss. Then I could crawl into bed forever. No, then I would want to kiss them forever. Ah, I just need find something I metaphorically want to kiss forever. 

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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