mAkiNG sEnSe

It is the dead of the night and it is quiet. Very quiet. And the quietness calms me. It wraps itself around me like a thick woolly cloak of safety. Just the quiet. The quiet and me.

Ms. M came for a joy ride and stayed for a couple of weeks, until Mr. D decided to reclaim his own. I think now they have worked out some sort of a system where Ms. M stomps through the day while Mr. D cowers through the night.

They talk a lot, together and separately. And it confuses me immensely when they do that. And not forgetting my own internal dialogue with myself. So many voices, it is difficult to make sense of them all.

Sense and sensibility. Sense and sensitivity. Sense and serenity. Sense and sensation. Sense and seize. Sense and seduce. Sense and solution. Sense the silver lining.

Sense and non-sense.