I am.

Sometimes the silence stifles me. It covers me like a thick blanket and suffocates me and I am nervous and edgy because everything is so silent. I fiddle with my phone to find someone to talk to. Anyone. I am restless. I want to laugh out loud, just to feel the kick. And when I am talking, I am like a junkie on a high. I am transported. From silence to cacophony. That the cacophony is nothing but the thoughts inside my head dying to come out is lost to me. At that moment, I am. I giggle, I sigh, I nod, I sing mid-sentence. I wave my hands all around me because talking isn’t expressive enough. I am pacing up and down all around the house because I can’t sit still. I am all about connecting. That’s what I am.

Sometimes I am in love. Unbearable, unconfined love. And I want to pour it all out, except I don’t know how. Words seem lame. I can only say so much. I want to give myself away, melt myself into pools of love and drown him in them. I feel like letting go, of everything, just so I can hold on to that moment. When I know that nothing matters more than love. I want to write pages and pages and even that doesn’t seem enough. And my heart gets heavy from all the love it has to handle. That’s when I am. I am love. I am everything he needs, and the only thing he needs. I am.

And then sometimes I sit down in one corner to listen to the same song on repeat for hours and my phone rings away and I don’t want to pick it up. I am floating in my own Neverland, and I don’t wish to be brought back. I am all about sunshine and the yellow sunflowers. I am all blue skies and green grass. I don’t belong to this place. I am crying out of happiness because everything is so peaceful and nothing can bring me back to reality. Silence, is my solace. And in that silence and tranquility, I am. I am peace. I am white and calm. I am.

Sometimes I put on music and I dance like life is all about dancing, and I feel it pulsating in my blood. I live the beats and I am sweaty and I am laughing, and I don’t care which song is playing as long as I am dancing to it. I am loud and raucous and downright unruly, and my hair flies in all directions and I don’t see what’s in front of me. I am vitality. And right there, I am. Kicking, screaming, laughing. I am.

And when night comes and I am tossing and turning in bed trying to sleep, and there are kaleidoscopic colors flashing in my mind, even then I am. I am a powerhouse of emotions and ideas that can’t be turned off at will. And there are technicolor visions of distorted contorted snapshots I see. A beach-house here, a white bedroom there, a breakfast table laden with toast and juice and fruits again. But in every moment of that sleeplessness, I am. I am baffled. I am awed. I am.

And sometimes, I am the rockstar. With bejeweled headbands and studded belts and a punk hair style, I am performing on the stage. Even though the stage is the entire expanse of my vivid imagination and the audience my solitary self in the mirror looking back at me. I grab the mike and give my best and I hear the crowd cheering me for more. And in my karaoke evenings with B, and coffee and chocolate and laughter and love, I sing like I have always been a rock star. We belt out song after song and we applaud for ourselves, and life could stall in that moment forever. I am all about the music and the chords and the harmonies and how they all create magic. In those evening walks when it is all a Capella and giving seconds, even then I am a rock star and we are a band. And whether I sing with the band on the stage, or I sing to myself to Youtube karaoke videos all alone at four in the morning, I am.

And then when it all gets a little too much, I type it all out. My fingers fly over the keyboard and my eyes drift from left to right of the screen and back again. I don’t read my words again. They might not make sense. But what I feel is a sense of purpose. I have to let it all out. I simply have to. And then, when I am listening to my heart and typing it all out, I am. I am creation. I am impulse. But I am.

I read. I write. I talk. A lot. I sing. I love. I dance. And then I dream some. I think some. I feel. A lot. I crib. I whine. I smile again. I live. I am.

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2 thoughts on “I am.

  1. Serenely Rapt says:

    Jeez Sam…! This was a deluge, so invigorating, so alive. It trembles with and sets a-tremble. I can barely type.

    Do you know, you spoke for a girl who lived long ago…? She was so alive once that years of living haven’t managed to kill her, not much.

    What more can I say…? Words, as you say, are so lame. 🙂

    Love,
    Dagny

    Like

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