As I awoke this morning. mind racing. Thoughts faster than I could comprehend, inhale, blink...


Startled. Racing. Frozen. Unseeing. Clamoring. More than a thousand voices speed across the horizon each shouting to be heard, impatient as one takes precedence. The vise tightens as though coil of a serpent wrapped around the struggling body, sadly of an already empty shell. Eyes fly open, legs swing over the side of the bed, yet there is no disorientation "Hello again, old friend, it is not yet time to part, our journey has just begun"

I met someone, no someones. Many, some at once, some time after time. Each brings disorderly ordered chaos and leaves a modicum of unknown clarity to be found in its wake. Such as the companion of this daynight. Daynight. When does the day begin when does the night end and vice versa. It is all subjective really. Why, take a look at the places where daylight reigns for months on end. But, I digress.

The thoughts of my certain companion plague me more today than those of previous days. Why, I thought, as I swung my legs over the side of my bed. As I rise to walk to the bathroom, pause as I realize I have yet to turn off the laptop left running a virus scan. Together we go speaking in tongues as it may be. What discussions arose? How does one discuss with psyche you propose. What is this someone at this time? What nameless face is this? At this daynight, it wishes to be called Onus. How does it come by this name? Oddly, not a word I recall having heard nor used in years. Perhaps not since junior year in high school. As I sat down to power down the laptop, chuckling, googling the meaning of my companion. As it whispered, softly- 'heavy am I, and will be as such'... Pause.

Sighing, I shook my head, of course, Onus. Why else would you be both welcome yet most unwelcome. Carrying forth morning habits, then now car, onwards, work. Onus incessantly, fervently whispers: Now. Later. Why. Or. But. And. Why. After. Why. Prior. Ends. Means. Choices. Effects. I drive, yet more out of memory than focus.

Why does one seek such inner thoughts? Is it that we are always aware of ourselves yet push certain someones aside till they tumble over? As though an avid mountain hiker in the pursuit of the unknown amidst an avalanche. Perhaps not the best analogy, but one that comes to mind. Dark passenger, no- Dark Passengers of mine, these someones I meet, someones I carry. Dormant this area of my mind it is not, come into contact we do often all too much. Many perhaps dare not. This entity in which emotions, thoughts, visions- though for many perhaps too difficult to fathom or bear- thus remain untouched, over run with weeds, moss and cobwebs. I am not one of them. I have met these that I carry. It is not just the one, as today who weighs upon me. But many. It is as though a waiting room, peering thru from behind the glass upon faceless nameless face. Who look upon me, as though seeing I brushing by their face, waiting for my glance to pause, to connect. For? What then?

The waiting room continues to fill, some take their leave, either purpose filled, others desires empty still.

Do I dare accept my mind is not my own. That I (quote a line from one my most revered lyrics to date) am a million different people from one day to the next... however, I have come to understand and believe, I have the ability to be, a million different people from one second to the next. This I harness from those I carry, whom I nourish. Those whom when I awaken have yet to quiet or choose to, as Onus, linger. Heightening a sense, even maybe attempts to take the reign. Though I have yet to determine, which me has to emerge. I laugh, giggle, play, brood, suffer, think, think, think... to lose 'myself' - only do I want to be found? *shrugging... I don't know if it really matters. When I find out, not if, when. I'll meet.

I met someone, no someones. I'm..... I them.

Disillusion takes what Illusion gives, Such is the ephemeral paradox.

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