Wonder how, so much passes through my mind in a day, and I get really excited where my mind starts floating to. And I go and talk a walk around the office or the neighborhood to give myself a few minutes to indulge these thoughts. But somehow, when I sit here, all of the spillage manages to come to a halt. I stop somewhere, between my ecstatic, thinking smile and my typing hands. I probably stop aware that you're reading. Aware that you have biases, a history with me or a different stake in this world. Somehow your machinations, and your dreams interupt mine.
Is the main thing I always have to will myself away from, letting someone else hold me back. The most intimidating other being the anonymous, indescript one. I don't give a fuck what a curious friend or intimate thinks. But a wandering stranger frightens me, stifles me.
The phantom of man, why have you always had a hold on me?
