Maybe the windows need cleaning.

It is easier to write with teardrops/raindrops on the window
and running in rivers down the street.
It is easier to speak in the dark when no one can see my eyes.
I am running out of words and desperately digging through paragraphs
to see what I used before.
(papers are falling to the floor all around me)
It is hopeless to use words and pictures and sounds separately.
It is impossible for me to put everything together coherently.

I am racing against myself, against my thoughts to catch up to the dreams I’ve been having for so many years. Three to four dreams a night and it is certainly starting to add up…I guess my soul is taking trips around the world and keeping busy.

Put it down on paper quick!
Write!

Find new words for every image because although I wish so hard I could paint these things…someone else has taken that picture already, has used the canvas to show it and I can only throw it down on screens and paper.

(This morning, from an office window)