lately.
Like the way when you hook a slinky in a circle and then pull on it and the energy makes the coils just keep going around and around and it's stuck in a loop that you don't realize is a loop because you can't see the whole slinky and today you're only as big as a dust that's sitting on one of the metal coils and all you can see both ways are spirals and spirals of silver that look so complicated and hard until something happens in your life that makes your eyes ten times bigger (for just a moment and then SNAP back but there's a different taste in your mouth this time) and all of a sudden you can see the whole damn slinky and the little electric energies/edges of individual thoughts that are sparking around and around and around and used to blind you but are actually just winks and you didn't realize how sick you felt until you got off the ride.
"Of what use is genius . . . if the web is too finely woven, too irritable by pleasure and pain, so that life stagnates from too much reception, without due outlet?"
"Do not craze yourself with thinking, but go about your business anywhere. Life is not intellectual or critical, but sturdy. It's chief good is for well-mixed people who can enjoy what they find without question." (Emerson, Experience)
somesomesomesomesomesome body convinces you, whether you realize it or not, to just stop. Just stop digging and sit in the dark for a while. And then you're actually able to see that you're in a hole. And it's still dark and you know you'll probably be here for a while but you might as well start to make friends with yourself and your loneliness and ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I like to think critically. Have been encouraged to think critically. Have accomplished things by thinking critically. I had a professor who liked to talk about the life of the mind. About dedicating yourself to academic exploration. Which certainly has its fruits. But excess makes you stick your head in the sand. And when your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and you see the dirt in front of you, you think I've got to keep digging deeper, that's how I'll get out of this. Think think think think think. And then you start wondering about the meaning of life. And then you start realizing that everything is subjective perspective. It's all persesubjunctivity. Which isn't a word. Which means it's not real. Except there are no real words. Just assumption tied to sound. SIGNIFICANCE. Say it out loud and feel the way the word begins by first hissing through your lips and then moving straight to the back of your throat with the hard G. Bite your lip for the F. It pops out of your teeth with the I. Hiss back to the front for the last syllable. That's all. What's real? Cue existential crisis. Unravel. Dig deeper dig darker.
Thank god Colleen laughed at me and invited me to swing dance. She's got a great smile and knows how to laugh at things. she promises that later we can have some tea and belt out Adele on my dinky keyboard (only known cure for angst) and be really indulgent because when we sing Adele we get to own relationship suffering that's not even ours ( track: Someone like you ) for a good hour and then leave it and go to sleep next to the mountains
Another day another dizzy and
Just stop
My bones finally had room to speak. Hungry and I fed them.
with putting my gut into things
with being bad at dancing
with less reflections (mirrors and more)
with a plane ticket
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Still not oriented. But it feels like up. Like lighter-ness still muggy muddle but it's different than when digging straight downandonly (different taste in the mouth this time) still not oriented. Not going to be oriented this t i m e a r o u n d .
But moving (!)
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