143 words at a time

if the sleepless years were a consequence of post-traumatic-stress-disordered anxiety and these current sleepy weeks in which i continually return to bed result from depression, and if i could choose one or the other, then i’d choose depression. i’d choose this sleep. i am only partially convinced that this condition is depression. my body aches. my head aches. my heart aches. but my body has ached, my head has ached, my heart has ached for many years. i do not have energy for anything except another nap and another long night’s rest, but i am not unhappy. i no longer feel sadness or grief. maybe i feel nothing. but if this is nothing, it is a blissfully quiet, secret, underground nothingness. most of my dreams are ordinary boring pleasures, not nightmares. most of my hungers are small and contained, not restless, destructive, or unmanageable. most of my desires have been extinguished. if i didn’t sleep most of the day, i’d wonder if i’m approaching enlightenment. i’m not, but i might be approaching a new kind of peace or acceptance.

i can only write 143 words per sitting, but i keep writing pieces 143 words at a time. i walk away from the keyboard, take a nap, return to the writing, and write 143 more words. i clean a bathroom, do the dishes, read a chapter in a book, and then write 143 more words. the pieces get written. the new story may become a full-length novel, 143 words at a time. i want to write. i have to write. writing isn’t a choice. i have something to say, something i learn as i write. i practice patience and perseverance to say what is mine to say 143 words at a time.

this blog post took two days and three sittings to write. i can go this slowly and get things done. my life is livable at this pace. my life crawls by an inch here, an hour there, a paragraph in the morning, a paragraph in the afternoon, another paragraph late at night. my life might last longer now that i can finally sleep (because statistically, insomniacs have much shorter lifespans than people who sleep). i can trust my life to be long enough to say what is mine to say 143 words per sitting. i trust life to bring me whatever lessons, wisdom, experience, and people i need as i move from one breath to the next, one moment to the next, one year to the next. i trust 143 words to slowly fill the blank space on the screen.



About angel joy

love is an action verb. i live love in action.
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