(no subject)
the other night i dreamt of high school versions of amber and meagan moon. i was trying to explain to them about my stomach...the horrors of being able to actually feel my organs wailing and writhing inside my body.
"i can feel my intestines and they are very sick...they are crying and thrashing about...it feels like aliens under my skin."
meagan hid behind amber most of the time because my presence made her shy. they were a benign alliance, but separate from me.
now i feel horrified by the authenticity of everything. it is all real, solid and sound, raw in front of me.
death and cancer and internal bleeding and bombs and decapitations and bundled-up bag ladies sleeping in the doorways of restaurants in the 5ème.
there is no getting away from it. how can anyone go on doing anything? we must forget. i must find a way to become immune to the tragedy, or i'm going to atomise.
oh, it's getting better already. now i'm just afraid of my insides. and now i'll go to sleep and tomorrow ride my bicycle.
"i can feel my intestines and they are very sick...they are crying and thrashing about...it feels like aliens under my skin."
meagan hid behind amber most of the time because my presence made her shy. they were a benign alliance, but separate from me.
now i feel horrified by the authenticity of everything. it is all real, solid and sound, raw in front of me.
death and cancer and internal bleeding and bombs and decapitations and bundled-up bag ladies sleeping in the doorways of restaurants in the 5ème.
there is no getting away from it. how can anyone go on doing anything? we must forget. i must find a way to become immune to the tragedy, or i'm going to atomise.
oh, it's getting better already. now i'm just afraid of my insides. and now i'll go to sleep and tomorrow ride my bicycle.