I'm out of sorts
I'm out of sorts
I feel my face is expressionless
I feel my inner me is sloshing around
It's the washing machine again
I'm out of sorts
I am not worried
I'm just trying to understand
one human
the human I am going to spend the rest of my life with
I'm out of sorts
My inner being is affecting my outer being
My inner being is trying to communicate to the rest of me
I'm out of sorts
I have to pick up pencil and pad
I have to write - it makes more sense
I have to write about emotions, relationships, humans I love - those near, those backing off, those who concern me, those I love, admire, envy, move me - shake me.
I'm out of sorts
I am puzzled
I am enjoying it
I am digging it in a strange way
I'm out of sorts because things are happening outside my control
I don't like the word 'control'
Things are stirring my emotions to uncomfortable
I don't like the word 'comfortable'
Comfortable is a dangerous place
Things humans say disturb me
I like the word 'disturb'
I want to disturb the comfortable
and comfort the disturbed.
I'm out of sorts
Listening to Hip-hop
Sometimes aggressive music
Sometimes prophetic music
It is grit betwen my toes
It is grit between my teeth
It is grit between my ears
I like the word 'grit'.
I'm out of sorts
I don't care what I am wearing, eating
I am not reading the newspaper
TV has gone from my planet
I'm out of sorts
I don't want to be sorted
I want to to be 'sort'
I want to journey - not reach a destination
I'm out of sorts
my faith is not diminished
my faith is not clean and tidy
It's in the washing machine.
Pip Wilson bhp L5 Washing Machine Inc. ©
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