sometimes i want it to be messy
Sometimes i want it to be messy. And not the carefully constructed mess that’s actually a product of time intensive set up.
i want the mess that comes before the thought that it should be tidied. The mess that comes when a hand flies across a page. The mess of a morning before a mirror. Before the thought disrupts the flow.
There’s a freedom to mess that is hard to reach once the mind which wants us to fit interrupts. I want to find the unedited version, full of filler words, contradictions, uncertainty and waffle.
Sometimes i want to smell. I want my tummy to stick out at odd angles and I want my hair to stick up on end. Unaesthetically.
True mess feels like an elusive release. It’s there in the thoughts before pen goes to paper (or really, keyboard). And perhaps it’s our keyboards which threaten mess. These devices with their cameras and backspaces offer us the chance to edit out the mess.
But there’s art in the thing you didn’t mean to say or the angle that didn’t quite flatter you. This is where character and feeling lie. And I want to find it. To reconnect with it. To soak in it.
