It will, of course, but crimeny cripsies, I am dangling over the never neverland and my eyes are boiled grapes and I am entirely without the ability to breathe through the nose. Still. I had moments, moments of feeling.
Now, those moments feel like windows that close on your hand if you linger too long. I haven’t eaten enough. I don’t want to eat. I made chicken with one of the many bottles of capers we somehow have managed to buy and that I need to put away, but I’m here, in bed, typing this post and reading grand things, all the while that thing with the eyes and the breathing is continuing to pinch and tickle and sweat and I know my nose is going to bleed it is so raw.
So. Yes.
There is a negative spiral spinning me now. An irritation that tea will not warm. It’s loose bra straps, it’s pulled blankets, it’s dry, raw lips, and unsneezed sneezes, it’s the number of e’s in a word. It’s a dream that voids another dream. It’s the grinding of teeth. It’s being haunted by language. It’s a drained battery. It’s a blinking light. It’s knowing better and doing worse. It’s reinfecting a clean wound. It’s not having the word count show up. It’s not even knowing why I am here or what I am trying to say.
I used to have an idea. Even just an end of the year, get your druthers, get your trotters moving, get your gumption sort of idea. Now, it’s just gray white walls. Symbolistic gray white walls, if you’re a Matt Good fan.
It’ll be okay, but if you don’t extend the vision out, you sit right here with me in the center. Here, where, oy, it is unfuckingpleasant right now.
Still, the hope arrives in the end, vicious from the journey. Hope is like a shark. It has to keep swimming, else it will die.
…
I have been short on words lately. I have promised to return and fill these pages. I do have some ideas about that, even in the midst of everything else, but I just want to be here with a clear head. I just want to treat this place with reverence. I want to treat a lot of things with more reverence than I am capable of right now. I don’t want to just be braying and spraying and clattering around for the sake of saying I did it. I…am sufficiently not on the mark these days to freak myself out and with my falling out hair in knots and my hands shaky from all of the bad ideas running through my head, I want to…perform the lustratio.
A ram, a pig, a bull.
Maybe now, we add the tooth of a shark so the gods know we mean business.
And a force to move and feed and break all that might have been poisoned, all the malefactors in this still quite newborn year, all that went wrong.
It will have to be quite the purification if we’ve any hope of having it stick. But the blood is already in the water, so what else is there to do but try?
