(no subject)
Sometimes I will be doing something ordinary,tedious,irrelevant,and suddenly there will be a gray wash over everything I am seeing that has nothing to do with eye failure but just a sudden shift in perception. And then I can feel undertows dragging me to my knees on the floor,putting me in a position to propose or perhaps beg forgiveness,and there is salt on my lips and everything goes blurry like I am crying,even if my eyes are so parched they are stuck wide wide open like a fish's,a mannequin's.
And sometimes when I see strangers walking with glass objects in their hands, I imagine the glass thing dropping and shattering in a commotion of wind-chime music and shards,and the strangers just keep walking,oblivious,their steps stiff and rationed as if they were marching to drums buried in the concrete or their chests. It just takes a second, I blink and see the glass is solid and polished by the sunlight. They walk away. I know I am imagining it, it's almost intentional, but it still makes me feel confused and vertigoed for a moment every time.
Some astrology book in prairie lights was so accurate it was like a cheap magic trick. March fifth-people born on this day's worst fear is to be trapped by a routine of mundanity.....and so on.
Lately I feel like I am in a constant stalemate,and all I can see in any given direction is squares of black and white and obstacles with crowns and manes and felt underneath to keep them from scratching the chess board. I just want to write, that's it. I'd write this all away, if I could. I do,for that matter,but it's a perennial,and it comes back every time,every day,every year.
And sometimes when I see strangers walking with glass objects in their hands, I imagine the glass thing dropping and shattering in a commotion of wind-chime music and shards,and the strangers just keep walking,oblivious,their steps stiff and rationed as if they were marching to drums buried in the concrete or their chests. It just takes a second, I blink and see the glass is solid and polished by the sunlight. They walk away. I know I am imagining it, it's almost intentional, but it still makes me feel confused and vertigoed for a moment every time.
Some astrology book in prairie lights was so accurate it was like a cheap magic trick. March fifth-people born on this day's worst fear is to be trapped by a routine of mundanity.....and so on.
Lately I feel like I am in a constant stalemate,and all I can see in any given direction is squares of black and white and obstacles with crowns and manes and felt underneath to keep them from scratching the chess board. I just want to write, that's it. I'd write this all away, if I could. I do,for that matter,but it's a perennial,and it comes back every time,every day,every year.