Writer's Block... (or is it?)

"I don't know what to write about," I say.

There is too much going on

in my world,

in my life,

in my brain.

Too many colors: 

teal, gold, silver, amber, flesh-tone, black, raspberry, purple...

Too many textures:

sleek metal, soft leather, crisp paper, hard plastic...

And there are too many smells:

molding earth; sugary, fermented leaves; new carpet; stale coffee...

But most of all there are too many emotions,

opinions,

and moods.

If I know how I feel, then I instantly don't --

it's like some kind of rule with my brain (probably meant 

to keep me on my toes).

I am at once (simultaneously): 

lonely, contented, angry, reconciled, in love, and in

distrust.

So, you might see; 

with all this in my head, and my heart, and my circles,

it is difficult,

if not impossible, some days,

to focus, and to choose 

just one subject to care about:

to think about, to feel, to know, to breathe...

To write about.