Clarity

So confused. Her mind churns with millions of questions, tentative answers, explanations as to how she ended up here, what to do from here. She can't sort through the confusion quickly enough. One answer discovered, five questions concocted. One dream constructed, one wishful hope revealed. No sense can be made of it all; no single solution to all the questions and hopes and daydreams she so desires to be fulfilled. She's almost sure of her desires.

No sleep at night, no peace through the day. A billion words race through her head like a torrential storm with colossal damage that only piles onto the rubbles of confusion inside her head. She wants a force, any force, to stop the downpour and clean the rubble, dusting away all but the solid answers for which she yearns. She is well acquainted with the factors of worry; she's spent so much time with them. But she wants away.

So much torture. So much confusion. Too many questions and not enough answers. Too much doubt and not enough certainty. It won't stop. It's relentless. It's her only familiar place.

Her moment comes. The thoughts stop. She understands.

That moment. That peaceful moment. That moment we all search for in this confusing and demented world. In our confusing and demented minds. That moment, a moment where everything makes sense. It all makes sense.

That moment. A moment of clarity.