Writing In Chaos


Before I lose this flow of energy I need to write my story

Too many distractions, must close the door, get up and close the door

 In just a moment, I don’t want to lose this flow of energy and I may forget the word or words

Footsteps approaching down the hallway

I told you to close the door says my mind but perhaps they not coming my way, I hope

Oh no, they are coming my way, told you to close the door!

Which top looks better? she asks, “look at this one, now wait, let me show you the other one”

You should have closed the door!  It’s just a second – smile and nod I tell myself, but I really like this one I say, no need for further banter – write, write write, shes gone

Now get up and close the door, but I just want to tell you this one line in the meantime just in case I lose the flow

My heart skips a beat, those footsteps again, it cant be be true, too late now, they back in the room

“have you heard this song?  I thought you might like it?” – I can’t believe this is happening to me! I just want to write one line!

“No” I say, “not right now” in an effort to write my line

“Fine” she says, as she walks away -now I can write my line

Oh dear God, I cant write now can I? It’s the guilt of a mother!  I must listen to this damn song!

“Okay” I say, “lets hear the song, but quick, I am writing” – “No” she says, “I can play it for you later, write” – I love her so much – now I can write my line

“Before I leave” – a manly voice enters the room – “won’t you just send me this email?”  What? Where did he come from? I didn’t even hear his footsteps?

I won’t turn, I wont stop, I just want to write my line and as I am typing, in the back of my mind all I can hear is my very own conscious “you should have closed the door

but he won’t stop talking about this email, and now, he is sitting beside me and telling me what to say in the email

Don’t listen, don’t listen I tell myself – don’t even stop to dot your i’s, just don’t stop or you will lose it all

Don’t listen to him and perhaps he will leave because my fingers are racing on the keyboard

 I am busy you see, I am busy you see, why don’t you just leave?  He is not aware, that all I want, is just to write one line!

More footsteps in the corridor coming down the hall? Enter my room, another manly voice – what is actually happening today?

I just want to write my damn line!

 Please God, help me out here I just want to write my line

What are they both doing here?

Now, huddled in the doorway – he is approaching me again, oh dear, I feel like I am at the circus now, and I’m losing my nerve

He sits next to me, but this time, his hand is on my back, I want to move my body away perhaps I will be free to write my line, but I don’t want to offend

nor start another conversation so I don’t move, just keep writing, faster and faster my fingers go

 Its that email again – I think to myself, maybe just stop for a second, quickly nod, then you can continue to write that line, I contemplate

he begins to speak, not about the email okay  he has now found something else to talk about

I’m still typing like a lunatic trying not to think, I may just forget my line

Rapidly my fingers go, harder and harder I press on the keys, trying to block out the sound of the voices

the sound the clutter coming from the kitchen and the sound of the music from a distance, write, write, write, faster and faster I go

Try as I may, they won’t go away, not the sounds nor the two bodies huddled in the doorway

They are having a conversation, yes, in the doorway to my room, they odd like that you see

Let me tell you quickly just what they talking about, even though, I still have said, not a word

They are busy debating about a word – the meaning of a word – in English and in Italian, and all I am thinking – I hate you both right now, please go, for I need to write my line

  They are looking at me now, I am not looking at them, but I can them feel staring back at me – asking a question, so they probably waiting for a response, but I am not saying a word to either of them, neither do I have any intention of doing saying anything at all

My phone just rang, let it go to voicemail and you should have switched it off says my mind – but more importantly, you should have closed that door and you wouldn’t have all this testosterone in your doorway right now

He wants an answer, his moving closer to me while he is talking, he is explaining the definition of the word that he was asking for earlier, I am not interested, I am typing this line in a hope that I will eventually type my line that I came here to type in the first place – but he is relentless this man, always is, he has now gone on to explain the Latin origin of the word and is saying how it is not actually an English word and we took it from Latin. I am going to kill him. I have thrown myself back on the chair with my head rolled back and a very deep sigh for just a second, he stops talking, in these ten seconds I pray they will leave, they don’t. I am typing again, still typing, they are still here, still talking, but now I think they leaving, they moving to the hallway, they leaving

I cant believe this, they have just walked out my room, their voices in the hallway and I dare not stop talking to you because the sound of the keyboard makes them understand I am busy and cannot entertain them so here I am, me and keyboard, going crazy. I need to get up and close the door, now.

A breath of fresh air has just arrived, its my daughter, my heavenly child. She came to ask if all is okay and I nod without turning, as she slightly pulls my door and leaves me alone with the silence of my keys. Disbelief – I am eventually alone – and even though the door is still slightly ajar – I no longer want to get up and close the door –  for I am typing and speaking to you so let me tell you my line, even if, for today, its just that one line.

Yes, I should have closed the door – for now I can hear her telling them how rude they are, they should have left me alone. “Could you not see that mum is trying to write? Don’t be rude, leave her alone” Yes, shes wonderful – always had such a fiery spirit, love her so. “Oh”  – is the only response she gets – an “oh” laced with a bit “disbelief” – as though I was part of their conversation earlier, it must have been the silent part of my feedback I think.

I am now alone, I can write my line, let me tell you the line, oh what on earth was I actually going to say to you?  

Perhaps another time, when I have less distractions, without the definition of a single word, without wanting to kill anyone, because right now, I am at peace again

I have lost the flow, clearly I have, because I am smiling as I write this line, knowing that some things just are. Acceptance of the state of things as they are, because ultimately all the distractions that surrounds me are made up of love, and for this, I am grateful

You has just walked in, without a word, and left for me an espresso on the side of the desk, reconfirming why I would rather love you much than any less at all

What on earth was I saying?

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