Ring a ling a ling..

it's housekeeping.

this morning i awoke to an echoing moan reverberating through the emptiness. Sound bounces off bereft walls making everything sound eerily louder. It must be the stillness that silently accompanies a lifeless void. The knowledge that nothing exists sends a shiver slithering down my spine. Words that once thrived, now shrivelled under the icy gaze of neglect (a cause for public flogging had I been a gardener and this blog my patch of green).

I realized, I was no better than a low down skeevin cheater - that was me. I got caught up in the glitz of the moment. I had forgotten my first love. Kicked my purpose to the curb in a flurry of activity. I had misplaced my reservoir of energy – that which let me introspectively script out the lyrics of the next song. To chart the next notes my life will sing (sans instrumentation of course).

And that's when it hit me.

I haven't been home. For those of you who don't remember me pre-flog - you met me part ways through. I was the verbiage girl - the one who felt far more comfortable hiding and burrowing behind constructions of the alphabet than cheesin’ before a camera. And yet, somewhere between the glare of flashes, I had fallen. Vanity got the best of me and idiom was left alone to wither by the wayside. Cruelly, I had forgotten to fill my most precious room with light.

So welcome home me.
May tomorrow and the days to come be filled with the sheer brilliance of visual sound.