11 December 2013

EPENTHESIS

Please don’t make me feel anything right now; I don’t have the time for that bullshit. I just heard someone scream outside the window. I hope you didn’t make them feel something. I hope they are just screaming for feeling alive. I would like to do the same but I’m conscientious of my neighbors (ellipses) Does this fact make me more alive, or less alive? Are we all being too conscientious and not screaming enough?

I have noticed -thanks to a long sit in a warm bath -to keep feeling the warmth it’s necessary to stir around a bit. Feet out, then under. Water is warm again. Water is wet again. I think that water is the softest discovery. Sit in it for a moment and it becomes you. Am I even sitting in water anymore? Because I feel nothing? And does it feel warm or cold now? And how long have I been in the bath now? I have to keep moving to feel anything at all.  Generally speaking, I think that I knew this, but the bathtub has since confirmed it.

I cut a chunk out of my hair this week. Was touching it just now; it’s all irregular and obnoxious. I told myself it’ll grow back. It’s just hair.

I know someone who died this week. People are dying constantly I suppose, but usually it ends up being someone I’ve never known. I don’t know how to react to death. I guess the only thing is to learn to grow despite the loss, to grow because of the loss. I’ve really no idea though. I’m very scared of death. Of people I love dying. Of feeling too much, or feeling too little, or feeling nothing at all, when I do eventually lose someone. Of not spending the right amount of time with them, or not telling them how I love them enough. Most of all, I wish that death didn’t happen, well at least not totally, and I could just pour out my loved one's presence into my morning coffee day in, day out. Still greet you in the morning, have you after dinner.

I’m hooping again. It feels good to move like that again. I paid the rent and the electric bill this week. Passed four finals. Sat in cold coffee shops and scribbled away about human anatomy.  Remembered, once, to make my bed. Avoiding most things because I get too distracted by distraction’s distractions.

Another harrowing goodbye will come this week. This seems to be the recurring event the past couple of years. Change is good right? I still think of the profuse tears I’ve shed on buses each time I’ve left someone. It’s really underrated how painful goodbyes are. It’s always worth it; to have such good times, despite the difficult separations. Maybe it makes true connections a bit stronger, even. (what does it remember like?) 

I need to start packing for Chicago. I need to eat something for dinner besides an apple. To do over Christmas break: Jacob’s coffee. Books. Countdown: 2 days.


11. sleeping pills and damien rice