Tangled Nest

My thoughts are tangled and twisted, contorted into shapes and knots in such a way that I have no idea where one thought begins, ends, or crosses over another not. Everything is monochrome in color and all I hear is white noise, like the constant twittering of birds.

I'm thinking about college, about home, about love and about life.
I'm thinking about my grandmother, my sister, my parents and my boyfriend.
I'm thinking about weekends past, the weekend coming up and the three day weekends in college.
I'm thinking about packing up clothes, of hauling boxes and of my room losing my identity.
I'm thinking about my roommate, about my friends, about my classes and about money.
I'm thinking about financial aid, loans, scholarships and other things.
I'm thinking about marriage, my marriage, the family he and I could make.
I'm thinking about what could I really get with a degree in English, which is a question mark.
I'm thinking about all of my cds, dvds, favorite links and Facebook.
I'm thinking about how I still haven't solved that damn Rubik's cube sitting on the corner of my desk.
I'm thinking about rings, of how I hate diamonds because they seem cheap and common.
I'm thinking about my cell phone, how I wish it would ring more and I'd hear his voice.
I'm thinking about Italian food, my inability to eat a lot of meat, and fresh baked bread.
I'm thinking about ways to please, ways to give, ways to understand someone who is opening up but is slow and cautious in doing so.
Most of all I'm thinking about madness and this headache that's forming around my eyes, behind my eyes, between my eyes, from looking at the computer screen without my glasses and trying to untangle the mass of thoughts that is my nest.

I am left with a hazy crystal ball in the madness of it all and some tea leaves in a bottom of an empty cup that make no sense.