Some days it seems like I go through the motions of living. Perhaps living is not the right word. Perhaps at these times I am just existing. Get up, go to work deal with the day, eat or not. Fall into be tired, but not sleepy. Days like this are grey days. No matter how brightly the sun shines, or how gentle the wind may blow, I feel not-here.
Today has been like this. The window is open, the night is still – only the occasional passing car disturbs the silence. Tonight sleep is far away and it is in these hours that I want to run. Where to? I do not have a clue, perhaps just forever. And as I lie there a song comes slowly to my mind and I wonder why I have no roots. Are some folks born to wander? And some are born with old souls. And then I remember a beautiful song, from a young woman with a very old soul – and the darkness is less so for me now.