Confusion wraps around me tightly like a spiraling green vine holds onto an unsuspecting wall.
She holds me tightly and whispers in a language I do not understand, thoughts emerge that makes no sense to me, but harassingly try to – I hear my mind inside, pause to think, however progress seems to elude us both as these thoughts appear to remain open, unfinished and incomplete.
My library is lined with books, spread out on open desks with open pages, as i have been here before, reliving my relentless research, still as ever – incomplete.
Still, late at night, i stay awake reading through the pages of the books of my life, and each morning i wake to find i have not found the things i hoped to find, only more open books.
As for confusion, she still intrigues me, still she lines my thoughts and sometimes i wonder if I ever should try to understand them?
As for me, as always I’m in my library, reading.