Thursday, 5 September 2013
I am the woman who talks to cats, who mumbles as she walks; thoughts clamouring to be released. I move through the world like a ghost; unheard and unseen whilst all around the masses go about their daily courses.
The rumour mill rumbles on and I, unwilling to share the why's and how's, the gaze of others; make myself small, insignificant... to be overlooked and forgotten.
I read, I dream, I listen to the silence; my days humdrum and ordinary. I miss the hustle and bustle, the noise, the joy and the frustrations that used to colour the hours.
I have learnt to bask in the warmth of the sun, to be still in the silence; but I have not yet learnt to grow a new skin and start out into the world.