Palpitate

Something has me thinking. About something else. About me. About that. About life. About you.
In an offhand conversation while the world whipped by, I opened my mouth and some words fell out. "Reflection is key to monitoring how you move in the world in general." I don't know what they meant. Do you?

And so I taste those words, roll them around in my mouth and try to get a feeling for how my tongue fits around them. Still, they are foreign. How do I wax philosophical about reflecting on life and ignore the fingernail scratching my gullet? Something feels different. Reflect on it.

Somewhere, between the humid sky and the heatwaves rising from the pavement, is the truth. But I don't reflect on it, now do I? I do not consider it, I do not question...why? I do not really want to know.

If life is just a series of rooms, and the people you find in them, how do we reflect on the purpose of the company? Are you teaching me something? I like the analogy, it seems to inspire reflection on the relationships you build around you, either short or long, romantic or otherwise. Am I learning?

If we are just in another room, for a little time, do I hear you leave? Does the door creak open and say goodbye or is it just the absence I feel in my heart? Can I come too?

Where are you going?

Anxiety, after all, is only the reflections you ignore. Isn't it?