introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- too acute the memory snow storm midnight - 24 january, 2007 "and if you burn the road that'll lead you back to her in time, i will watch you turn to stone; can't find the sublime. she's moving on without you."~joshua radin today, i was beginning to write something and was somehow led back to something that i'd written years ago. i didn't come back to this immediately but instead tried to focus on what i remembered from that time. a poem, simple enough. i remember the night i wrote it. at work. listing. imagining. and then i came back to check my memory, the contexts. usually, when i blog/journal/whatever, when it is posted, it is purged. this is a way for me to release things. i rarely go backwards...i'm a forwards kind of girl. today, i very clearly remembered when i started this sort of rule...this 'don't go back and read it' thing that i do. it was learned. if i'm writing, is it for posterity? if i'm writing, who reads? if i am writing and i do not read it and nobody else reads it, either...what point? because there are days like today. days when i need a reminder. when i try to figure out when things went wrong. where my voice went. when i need to know if i've grown. when i need some comfort that i've gotten through it before. when i need to know that i am not completely numb, not completely shut down to all possibility in some realms of my life. because there are days like today. and so i came rummaging through the old dusty shoeboxes. they really are dusty now. the ribbons are faded. the letters are seeping into the digital illegible. there are those things that i dont' remember and i laugh at my own language. so i came rummaging. looking for something specific. i'd wanted to check the contexts... i don't oft look backwards as these parts of me that i file away and lock up because it is this crushing breathless feeling that nothing has changed. not even when i thought it was. i am still this dorky, lonely, insecure, love-deprived girl in an older body that is supposed to be this grownup woman. and i look at the body and i do not recognize it. i look at my former words and wonder if those things really even happened to the person that i have become. so coming to find the one thing that i was looking for ended up being a stroll through memories that i did not want to have. all of the things i couldn't say in the blackness behind the fonts. least of all, i did not want to remember how it all began in the first place. i wanted so much to believe this. irony: just when i believed he wouldn't go away, that he was really going to be there....he left me. i admit, i am more empty than i have ever been in my life and the notion that this will pass makes me even more sad because this is one thing from which i do not ever want to recuperate. jesus, i am so fucking sad. i don't want to refer back to those old times. it hurts so much. and when i went into the coffee bar to get my large coffee, i didn't expect eric to be there as well--when i'm out on campus, i am only half aware of anything beyond my own bubble of thought, my overthinking. but there was an uncomfortable greeting. this is the moment i did not want to come along. :how are you?: and i know that the answer that you are supposed to feed back into the emptiness is :fine, thanks.: and so i do. but you know what? the truth is that i just need someone to let me cry. someone to just be there. i want to just collapse. no. i am not okay. i am not well. i am cavernous. i am a dry well. i am a barren field. i am so empty inside and i hide behind my thick glasses and hope that nobody can see it in my eyes. so there. there it is. looking back and feeling now...i know it. i am not well. i am not okay. and i am more lonely than i have ever been in my life and for the first time, i don't see a way out. for the first time, i cannot convince myself to embrace what comes. for the first time, i half take my thoughts seriously...am i really damned to self-loathing self-torture and solitary confinement...silence, of being suprised by my own voice? sleeping pills. water. the only way to get a good night's sleep these days. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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