it
not that long ago seems a lifetime away.
in fact I spend most days confused by numbers - hours don't look right, I never know which day it is - as if the world just decided to rotate at different speeds every 10 minutes just to mess with me.
I have been here before. But I've forgotten most of it. I am sure it's not all lost - in fact, I'm fighting to get it back yet the dimmed tinted light skews my reassurances back and forth.
I am tired. Oh lord, so tired. I cannot repeat it enough! I am SOOOOO very tired... and I am tired of repeating the same tired rituals.
coffee & banana. Podcasts & tidying the place around. Shower & blanket. Watermelon flavour & green tea. Sitting right here & holding the phone. Alone & in bed. Sushi & dateline. Everything & nothing. Swallowing & waiting. "FOMO" & exhaustion. Wanting to go & feeling like I can't move. Sesame seeds & pasta. Yogurt & chia seeds.
same old same old in a squared frame with the sticker "brand new". The cellophane still wrapping it at some places. Just enough that I can't rip it all off.
the wasted time, the wasted time, the tiredness, the tiredness.
wait! Oh the wasted time - it's going, see? Look at it! The pointer is moving! Don't you feel that? Time is not an addiction it is a subtraction. One less, two less, three less... alive. That is why everything that tells me time is digital. Numbers are symbolic. Pointers make me think of Edgar Allen Poe's "Pit and the Pendulum"... everything makes me go back to that morbid place where I can see the pendulum getting closer and closer, my body unable to move due to its own reasons (which I cannot control and don't agree with...). The pendulum shows me pictures of happiness, jolts of electricity running through its metal show me light drawings of joy, the future, all that is to come. It's still a fucking pendulum, slowly but surely getting too close for comfort. I'm in my last ditch effort to stick my knees to my chin and bury my head until the impending doom flies off and disappears.
it will. I know. I am sure of it as I've never been sure of anything in my life ever before - not enough of a reason to be strong enough to bend metal and get out of the damned dark room. Enough of a reason to fight, not enough not to feel overwhelmed.
overwhelmed being the overall mood of tiredness and exhaustion. Take away the overwhelming and I'm left tired anyways.
oh the days I will spend being happy... just "not yet". Fuck. I can already see the sharp blade, it's coming for me. It comes for me during my sleep and it invades my dreams, turning them into a twisted dark fantasy deserving of its own category - "interawakeness state horror", follows me around, my own shadow having disappeared for the presence of it. "It". Can't really... What is it? I think I know what "it" is but if I dwell on it I'll sure as hell prefer the nightmares. I can't deal with "it" right now - not now, not at this essentially good , peaceful, somewhat still troubled existence.
I don't want it for too long but I protect it with my life for now. It is the figurative key to the next door - the one that still hides reality.
for now... I'll keep "it". Fuck. It hurts... but the promising light shines so bright...
*lights off*
