I’m stuck. Like watching all of the pedestrians fly seamlessly in and out of sidewalk traffic in Time Square while your peacoat is snagged in the elevator door simply because you had been walking forever and just needed a good hotel to pee in.
As if everyone in the world has a destination and is moving swiftly toward it.
Everyone but me.
It’s felt this way for a little while now, which generally signifies something. A need for a change. A reflection. A pause. A discovery. Instead, it feels like I’m just waiting. One of the stones in the middle of the river, blinking my eyes as the water rushes forward with zeal and fervor- leaving me stationary. In the mud. Just waiting. Whoa it sucks to be a rock.