Marine Snow

Most people find a blank screen, or an empty page intimidating. Me, I’m the opposite. I find it overwhelming yes, but I also find it oddly calming. The blankness, if I stare long enough into the blankness, it becomes soothing. All thoughts are calm and ordered and my racing mind slows down. It’s like deep breathing or meditation. Or medication. I almost fall into it. A panoramic view of nothing. It’s so beautiful and unblemished, just whiteness. The words are there already for me. They have already been typed. I just need to lay my fingers on the keyboard and out they come. Filling in the screen with the thoughts I never realised I had. The blank screen of a computer grounds me. Keeps me in the moment. Fingertips on solid plastic, tapping and breathing. I stay connected. Anxiety yields. Chaos is kept under control. There is no threat so no mental drawing of shutter doors.

The screen in my head does the same thing. The blank screen between me and my opinions, my thoughts, sometimes my feelings. Between me and anyone caring to see in. Questions slap against it, and drop off like dead birds falling to the floor, leaving me unscathed. Just as I said restriction is a vacuum, under threat my blank screen comes up and my brain disconnects. Leaving me staring around the room, confused. But I’m still typing inside, just typing on the other side where you can’t see it. In the void.

Continue reading Shutter Speed…