I'm in between something solid and the comfort of old routine. I believe it's better than being in between a rock and a hard place. Then again, in this moment, I've never been more persuaded by, drawn to the rock. And I'm feeling an inexplicable urgency to figure my shit out, yet I want to stay in this moment for as long as possible.
I'm within, I'm without.
There are reminders around my house. A stray album cover, text messages and a partially folded blanket. A foreign-like fascination with Punk music. Big and little hands. Smiles. Winks. Finger grazes.
Leave me no room for doubt.
This is one of those places that you can know, before you find it. And you think, and you wish, and you pray, and you do all those little things that you do when no one is looking, and while you're hoping that you haven't been discovered doing some embarrassing ritual, you could consider that there is no room for doubt. That the rock or the hard place might be better than chilling in the middle all the time. There's only so many times you can change the paint colour of the fence you sit on.
Please speak slowly. Leave me no room for doubt.
-Lianne La Havas
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