the clock strikes 1. we sigh and wait, until it strikes 2.

Tomorrow already feels strange. Can’t sleep. There are no sounds. I like to hear cars driving by in the dead of night. But my street is quiet and so is my house. I get nervous thinking about Norway. I don’t know a lot about that. But it is far away. And I am someone here. So will I leave and be something there. Then bring it back and replace an old shell that I left in a dusty house with motes and sunlight all yellow on the wooden floors.

I feel nervous. I think maybe because I know I won’t be going to some classes. When did ditching become a thing so different. We used to do it all the time in high school. Now it almost feels horrible. Like I am swallowing the wrong pill. None of my body feels tired. I wish sound filled me up but everything around me just makes things buzz. I want to be on a creaking old row boat with a mist of rain pouring from the sky. Like a shrouded covering they cannot see us as we sit in timid water that barely ripples. There is a warmth surrounding me and the air is thick with moisture. I want to close my eyes but I can’t. Half of me feels charged and the other half feels exhausted. They cannot reconcile with anything.

I haven’t read enough this week. I haven’t been doing much except getting paperwork in order. It is almost done and then I can submerge in figuring out how best to keep warm with the clothes I must purchase. There is no light either.

I don’t count the dim orange glow of the concrete street lamp outside. I’m too energized for street lights. I’m too exhausted but lacking to be peaceful.

But at least we all met again and it was wonderful. I love my family. They are a lot of fun.

---

We rise in shallow water,
With plenty of breath left.
We face the sun and the yellow light,
With smiling faces and plenty of life.
When we submerge again,
The seagulls circle,
The waves rise,
And the oceans swirls.
We rise far away,
From anything.

---
hush little darling, don’t you cry
mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby.