What pulls me?

Restlessness is pulling me out of bed at 4am. Don’t know if it’s spirits or something with in me, but I can’t get sleep right now and I’m getting angry.

The moon is making my brain crash up against my skull. It’s high tide in there. I am completely at the mercy of the moon. It’s like a band playing in my room, one that I can not ignore. Or a song that I can not get out of my head. Or the construction that will start pounding the pavements and shaking the foundation of this block, by 8am, for sure.

Maybe it’s someone else’s anxiety seeping through the walls. A constant vibration of my room mate or neighbor, or perhaps a god, who’s torturous head is now disturbing my sleep.

Resentment is pulling at me. For a life I thought I would have, for a government that I know is rotten, and I’m not sure I have the tools to weed that garden. For hatred and prejudice and suspicion that lives and breathes in the streets of New York. I am an empathic sponge on the riotous silent subway.

Thank Gods that creativity is pulling at me. The computer longs for me to write. The page calls me equally with dreams and thoughts and tarot card readings. Music is pulling at me too. The sound of my voice brings a vibration of healing and sanity to the restless and torpid.

Dance pulls me. The rhythm of my toes and heels and whole foot stomping, flapping, shuffling, hopping, jumping, ball changing and stepping. I can not stop my feet. The drum pulls me too. A joyous and free African sound, Dum dat dat Dum …pa dat. The pulse of life, a heart beat.

Luckily my heart keeps pulling in the tides of my blood. There is something constant I appreciate. The electronic shock that continues to jump start the muscle in the center of my chest. My heart is a vampire for air and joy and love.