(no subject)
Everything is better now. Greener, smoother, softer.
But it always gets weird, floating around like this. Drinking too much tequila. Calling my cat a bitch. I'm not catching enough of these thoughts before they are flung from my lips like arrows. Usually I can stuff them back in.
It seems like less than a month ago was another life. Some weird bad memory, or even a premonition, given that my dreams are all that is left that still clings to things, and even those are starting to figure it out. Without false memories of happiness it is easier to move on.
But sometimes, I just want to curl in on myself and close my eyes shut the world out. It's too full of people and failing machinery and little claws getting into your brain, trying to find you out, trying to hook your secrets and drag them, shuddering, into daylight. They writhe like worms on a hot sidewalk and people stare at them in fascination.
But there are always problems you know. Always something to worry about. At least now there is no one pulling me apart from the inside. I guess he was bored all alone in there, desperate to get out. But he found his way and now the only people are outside the shell of my person and I am finally finally safe.
sometimes I imagine the membranes in my chest are made of metal, like my heart or the core of me is bristling with spikes, deep frozen, protected, and I can just watch the world from inside without really having to be in it.
other times I close my eyes and my organs are trees and I am wading through shallow water and I can feel it soaking through my shoes and so I take them off. The ground is soft and springy and the sound of the forest echoes like a vision and there are sounds like wind chimes or crystal scales and there is a tree in the center of the center of me and when I touch it I can feel everything go silent and then I see them, and they are deer, and they are watching me, but they don't run, because they are a part of me.
they are calming thoughts.
But it always gets weird, floating around like this. Drinking too much tequila. Calling my cat a bitch. I'm not catching enough of these thoughts before they are flung from my lips like arrows. Usually I can stuff them back in.
It seems like less than a month ago was another life. Some weird bad memory, or even a premonition, given that my dreams are all that is left that still clings to things, and even those are starting to figure it out. Without false memories of happiness it is easier to move on.
But sometimes, I just want to curl in on myself and close my eyes shut the world out. It's too full of people and failing machinery and little claws getting into your brain, trying to find you out, trying to hook your secrets and drag them, shuddering, into daylight. They writhe like worms on a hot sidewalk and people stare at them in fascination.
But there are always problems you know. Always something to worry about. At least now there is no one pulling me apart from the inside. I guess he was bored all alone in there, desperate to get out. But he found his way and now the only people are outside the shell of my person and I am finally finally safe.
sometimes I imagine the membranes in my chest are made of metal, like my heart or the core of me is bristling with spikes, deep frozen, protected, and I can just watch the world from inside without really having to be in it.
other times I close my eyes and my organs are trees and I am wading through shallow water and I can feel it soaking through my shoes and so I take them off. The ground is soft and springy and the sound of the forest echoes like a vision and there are sounds like wind chimes or crystal scales and there is a tree in the center of the center of me and when I touch it I can feel everything go silent and then I see them, and they are deer, and they are watching me, but they don't run, because they are a part of me.
they are calming thoughts.