life becomes a giant swirl. at the end of the day everything is fine. good, actually. and in moments, great. but there is a throbbing. a beating. somewhere deep within the inside of her insides, a pulsation that makes her restless. makes stillness intolerable.
a yearning, that has her searching for some hidden answer she doesn't yet know the question to.
anxious for answers... sitting can be tolerable, at times fun, with a tall glass of icey screwdriver. (Is that what alcoholics say? I hope that's not the question to your answer).
ReplyDeletecheerup, buttercup... life is but a fun round of Jeopardy.