filled up to bursting. whether ice in the mouth or whether sweat in the space heater's forgiving eye. folded up bones, pushed so close they grind and hurt. filled up to spilling. yes? is this what you mean? no? more on this later, no, more on this now.
she calls herself my work girlfriend, my world is all girls now, a slight gravy of dripping in boy from time to time and then it's mostly me doing the boyness, more on this later (maybe never, don't look too close please, walking next to zeena when we're 10 and she's still shorter than me and i think, "am i a boy?"), at dinner she told the table that i was flirting with everyone from behind the counter, can other people see what we can't? (bursting and spilling over but finding skin to fold it back in again, to keep it secret, the river's run is gushing)
she has a boyfriend. he is subject of great complaint because he is sad. standing behind the counter, i'm leaking vaguely. "i want to talk to him" that's me and "why" that's her and me again "i know him, i know him from everything you've said. we drop our bodies the same. he needs me, i promise." i'd like to be two waterfalls in the same room. the river's run is gushing. is this what you mean?
and then there's mothers and muses, yes? love that is hard to return because it's so far away, yes? and not pushing too hard and asking too much, right? the small and the large. the smell of your own pillow. the balanced equation of a good flick of the wrist. all the shoes you've ever owned. the remembered bits that still have blank spots. the distance between now and some highschool mathematics class. what time you woke up. the punishment you devised. where your phone is buried underneath cast off pants, right? the not-good soup you fucked up.
i mean even (or especially) when things are good and you are in the mud up to your neck like a delighted barn-yard animal, dying dying dying and you'd think people would notice that you are about to combust at any moment, but they don't of course. is this what you mean?
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oooh these last 2 paragraphs resonate so hard. i'd add, or reply, something about sunshine, dying in the sun, the sense of perfect moments that are so perfect that i want to be still in them forever, take myself out of the equation, just the thought that everything would be remembered just like this and we could spend our lives remembering that moment and place, wondering why it happened that way. that kind of thing?
ReplyDeletenot to be morbid; if anything, i'm so alive i can't stop
Deletei want to dance this
ReplyDeletethere is so much to say about this state because it is so many things,
ReplyDelete-it is much more fun to say "I AM dyyyyyyyyyyyyy-inguh" than anything else, which is why sometimes no other phrase will do however inaccurate it may be
- i find the physical state that accompanies this extremely uncomfortable, like it actually kind of hurts, like that first feeling of needing to stretch in the morning never leaves your body the whole day, related is this an aspect of mania, related does the body mistake the flood of adrenaline for fear that somewhere in our animal brains reads as "death danger very near" which is why it feels like dying? related this feelings tips over into anxiety to me very easily
- powa by the tuneyards "i need you to press me down before my body flies away from me."
- i have felt this feeling when dancing and when kissing and re your feelings about perfection and aliveness (i almost wrote in this post i am dying means i am living right now, very hard) is it maybe some sort of mechanism that makes sure we don't forget that death is always nearby, that death is right up against life pushing into it?
- i have felt this feeling when dancing and when kissing and "taking myself out of the equation" means i know i'm not just me, feeling i am part of something beyond my skin and when we are not are bodies are we just dead?
- when i do suzuki and lift myself out of myself and look out past the walls, i always imagine the surface of the sun to steady myself
- i have felt this feeling when cuddling cats
-something something taylor swift wrote "I WAS THERE, I REMEMBER" something something britney spears
- really really i worry all the time that this feeling is mania
may we stop worrying--
ReplyDelete"i am dying means i am living right now, very hard) is it maybe some sort of mechanism that makes sure we don't forget that death is always nearby, that death is right up against life pushing into it?"
"i am dying means i am living right now, very hard) is it maybe some sort of mechanism that makes sure we don't forget that death is always nearby, that death is right up against life pushing into it?"
"i am dying means i am living right now, very hard) is it maybe some sort of mechanism that makes sure we don't forget that death is always nearby, that death is right up against life pushing into it?"
i don't tweet
i just repeat and repeat and repeat
walk and dance it and smudge some shit and repeat
until something else comes out
(i think you must have this down)