left with a trace of all that was and all that could have been.

[amysky]

rereading livejournal entries from march through june of 06, but particularly toward the end of april into may, causes me to feel hollow....as if a hole that once opened in my body (which allowed for a large chunk of my inner subconcious to shine through, unhindered, and become exposed to people or surroundings, and which also allowed me to understand and analyze profoundly, albeit perhaps imperfectly, the various laws and numbers and symbols and patterns present in this physical world, and in the body) has now been closed shut. i still cannot wear a watch, after realizing time was illusory, and i go to acupuncture, after realizing that my qi was trapped. i retain memories and feelings and fear from this time and i try to hold onto it all, because no matter how terrifying and ultimately embarrassing it turned out to be, my life rerouted itself, my head fell unto itself, and the moments i shared with my friends in that apartment and otherwise are moments that will continuously return to me. nothing i do will ever compare to how i saw the world then, and how i battled myself, and how i observed others and interacted with them, and how i was magical, insightful, and coming undone before their very eyes, how time sped up and colors shone brighter than before, how i could see into the future and relive the past, how i loved and longed so very deeply, and how i needed them, all of them, and how i tried to preserve my self, and how i persevered, somehow, through all of it, without much medical attention, and how i came through with few ill effects, after all was said and done, and now this will always be a part of me. and i can joke about it and say, "the time i went crazy" or "amy's special time" or i can tell someone how i went through withdrawal upon withdrawal and how sick and pained i was and how everything was happening at once, but only certain people truly know, certainly a lot of people actually, but it's these certain people who just get it, without my having to skirt around the issues or wrap it nicely in a bow, and i'm glad that my writings from these days are here on livejournal, my raw, untapped energy and thought patters spiraling outwards for all to see, because part of the point of existence is self expression, and i have little to be ashamed of. it was what it was.

and tonight, i hung out in my apartment with jake, dave, joy, and ben. someone was missing, and we all know who that someone is. i miss him, and the feeling i get when i miss him is the same feeling i get when i miss my old self, that "crazy" self i felt so deeply. or the feeling i get from certain music, like still. or isis, which i listened to intently in those weeks leading up to the breaking point, those cold, gray, heavy, anemic, empty, sullen green-lit weeks of intense fatigue and overmedication and heartbreak and over-exertion and self-ridicule and anxiety and commotion, longing and hope. it's loss, bare-bones and uncoated, and there's nothing i can do but to remember, and to challenge my brain to remember even more, and to store it all away, and to see it all as i did before, except that i cannot be that girl, and he is no longer that boy in this world (is that really true? is this really real?)...and i see these friends, and my mind rewinds and i'm back again, and we are sitting at the dining room table, and they are trying to teach me to swallow water, and i am bouncing around in a blanket, crying in the front of the door, and i am telling him a bedtime story about a dinosaur and a gas station in the clouds, and i wish for it all again, the madness and the hunger, if only because it's no more.