what’s the word for that feeling you sometimes get…. as if you are a guest in someone else’s home who has overstayed her/his welcome? you know you’re not supposed to be there. you’re supposed to be elsewhere, but you need someone to help you read a map because you can’t figure it out how to get there on your own. but you can’t gather the wherewithal to ask anyone for help even though everyone around you must see you are crying out for it, mustn’t they?
all that you know is that you know you must go where you are wanted, which is not necessarily where you are sent.
you came here for a reason… but a reason you can’t seem to recall. it feels vaguely familiar.
as i write these words, i am serenaded by deep and lush brown noise and it transports me to a world where there are no men on the other side of the wall who are watching sports in a very vocal way. instead, i breathe the fragrance of brown noise all around me. with barely audible ripples of turbulence next door.
i let it wash over me. it’s my security blanket.
without the brown noise, i would be utterly terrified, petrified with terror.
with the brown noise, i am fearless. there’s nothing i cannot do.