I am currently in a stage of being frequently moved.

I hear words in the breeze and music in your words.

I’m touched by much, cry easily, am often lost in thought.

Art affects me, stories affect me, my own feelings affect me.

Highly affected, I have to squeeze.

Once the torque is set, I can’t stop.

Red paint is everywhere!! Sliced all over the room, heater-skelter.

I don’t know how to soothe myself when the mountain breaks.

Have you ever found yourself the stereotypical “weary traveler?”

It’s the status quo for of an atmosphere of pressure, I’m afraid. It’s what I meant about being easily moved.

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