(no subject)
Jesus. I wonder what stopped me this evening? I was staring at them, then it, wanting them in my hand so badly I felt about to combust. I ached for their touch, sweet with a hint of sour. My breath was strong and heavy in my chest, bursting out at the end of an exhale and sharply sucked in again, almost too quick for my head to catch up. My crutches fell to the floor and I was half-leaning on the chair, not noticing the pain in my left leg from supporting my whole weight. I wanted to reach for them so much. They looked the most beautiful I had ever seen them. They sparkled in the overhead artificial light. My head swam - a combination of a craving for them and an overindulgence of oxygen. But it got harder to look at them. I looked everywhere but ahead. I dared not look ahead to my reflection. I didn't think I could stand to look into my own eyes and acknowledge what I wanted. I felt so ashamed of myself. They weren't made to be used this way.
In the end - and I don't know why - I tore my eyes from them and attempted distraction. I tried to fill my head with anything else. ANYTHING. But they kept sneaking in, souring my present notions, tainting my mind. I crutched around, putting my lame foot down, practicing for when I will be able to walk again. This - surely - would put them out for good! This is what I am looking forward to most! This is why I have tried so much to be satisfied with my lot! THIS is why I haven't tried at stupidity!! SURELY I would be ok. SURELY!
No. I entered the room with the timber floor, still practicing, yet still struggling with the internal. I made food - much as I hated the thought of putting it in my body, I knew I needed it. In addition, it made me concentrate on something other than what was abundant. But it was not to be. It took me without my realising, and, as I held it in my hand, all the world went silent, and everything ceased. It wasn't like before, though. My breathing was under control. I was still leaning on my crutches. My head was clear. I felt like a goddess, with this unbelievable beautiful thing in my hand. It was soft to touch. I caressed it, feeling the rough points like they were the purest cashmere. It trembled in my hand, as if a small animal would when frightened. It drew itself over me, and I was gone for a moment. But it was futile. A moment was all that was needed, apparently. It slipped out of my hand and I continued on.
I swear, I can still feel it.
In the end - and I don't know why - I tore my eyes from them and attempted distraction. I tried to fill my head with anything else. ANYTHING. But they kept sneaking in, souring my present notions, tainting my mind. I crutched around, putting my lame foot down, practicing for when I will be able to walk again. This - surely - would put them out for good! This is what I am looking forward to most! This is why I have tried so much to be satisfied with my lot! THIS is why I haven't tried at stupidity!! SURELY I would be ok. SURELY!
No. I entered the room with the timber floor, still practicing, yet still struggling with the internal. I made food - much as I hated the thought of putting it in my body, I knew I needed it. In addition, it made me concentrate on something other than what was abundant. But it was not to be. It took me without my realising, and, as I held it in my hand, all the world went silent, and everything ceased. It wasn't like before, though. My breathing was under control. I was still leaning on my crutches. My head was clear. I felt like a goddess, with this unbelievable beautiful thing in my hand. It was soft to touch. I caressed it, feeling the rough points like they were the purest cashmere. It trembled in my hand, as if a small animal would when frightened. It drew itself over me, and I was gone for a moment. But it was futile. A moment was all that was needed, apparently. It slipped out of my hand and I continued on.
I swear, I can still feel it.