Tuesday's Mental Musings

I sit down to write but before I can put words to page up from the street rises the angry screeches of a babbling man. My first reaction is anger. How dare this man interrupt the time I use to empty my brain of my own endless screeching? A part of me wants to tell this man to shut the hell up, but I don’t because I know it will be over before I decide which t shirt to throw on in order to look out the window. There is nothing to do but listen. His ramblings make no sense. They are just a collage of his life. There are no full stories just images that end as abruptly as his spurts of coherency. As I listen and try to put logic where there is none my anger subsides. I realize that like all of us he is trying to be heard. Of course I then wonder by whom and the babbling in my head begins…