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A feeling of mild discomfort
like typing on a keyboard that is not your own
distractions of the mind
halt, hinder, handicap.

My left hand searches for Ctrl Z
when the right gets a stroke wrong
as I stand in front of an easel…

I mean an easel.
not the RGB screen.
not a metaphor,
the easel.

The glasses get misplaced
and I think I’ll just give them a ring
The other day, I misspelt a song
but the microphone
hid it with a screech
(hooray for serendipity)

Vagueness
light-headedness
muddle me all the time
escapism, mum calls it
lack of attention, she says

I’m not in love
so that’s ruled out
everything else’s fine too
pretty much, I think.

as no reason exists
for this state of mind
I’m tempted to call it
some googled mind-disease

When actually, mum is right.

(I think).

there’s too much to do
too much
to absorb, chew, ruminate on
and not all of it I want to

so attention dwindles
never spanning as much as it should

I refresh that web-page
I refresh that web-page
I refresh that web-page

…and the brain remains stuck on it
even when the day, hour, minute,
even the world
have refreshed themselves

I need blinkers, filters, wipers
or perhaps 3D glasses
to declutter and demuddle.

Demuddle– there’s not even such a word
unless one considers
those urban dictionaries
of the rule-less, rigid world.

Now if I can condense all this to 140
I’ll tweet it.
If not, I’ll blog it.

and add to the very clutter
I try to order.

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