From Nov 16, 2010

This morning I woke up from a night terror, it was 2:26.

“It’s not actually real,” I thought. My eyes were puddles & my chest was tight.

It’s not actually real, but it’s over now, and it feels good to cry about it.

 I didn’t intend on calming myself down, although I wasn’t hysterical.

Do our bodies seek for reasons to do what’s necessary?

As soon as the guard is down, do our imaginations create situations just so that we can release?

Crying is good, crying feels good. Our logic following heads need a reason, though.

       Dear imagination,

please insert exception where I lack.

   I need to cry.