I am not put together today.

In fact, I am most decidedly unput together. I cannot focus or be expected to write structured, proper, linear sentences with correct grammatical prose.

I can feel myself devolving and I would be inclined to call it chaos, a desire to lose myself within whimsical fancies, to let go and intertwine my fingers with the feeling of freedom. But perhaps I should reconsider and reframe my thought process as a form of evolution instead, because is this unhinged, unbound, untamed part of myself really that bad? Is this not my brain finding a way to cope with all the uncertainties and the pressure and the stress by tapping into that wildness that calls for me to run bare feet, hair streaming, hyena-laughing with untampered joy into the middle of nowhere, leave everything behind and disappear?

So held together ALL. THE. TIME.

When instead I want to fracture and allow myself to fall to pieces and know that there is something just as beautiful about that, still as worthy and fantastic as when I was whole. Knowing that whole is not the destination of my fullness or the end to my potential but simply another shift in the matrix of my being. That maybe there isn’t really a goal, only cycling between different forms for eternity, a shapeshifting entity within the universe.

I am most decidedly not put together today.