|butchering the english language since 1985|
blisters and bruises
this new place my brain is inhabiting is completely unfamiliar to me. it lacks the general despair and heartlessness mixed with overdramatic emotion that i grew accustomed to in the years leading up to my eighteenth birthday, but missing also is the comfort and intertwined strength and perceived stability and overarching anxiety of the long relationship i just stepped out of. into weightlessness i dove headfirst, and i am completely and absolutely immersed in it, absorbing, floating, observing. i do not feel disconnected, and yet i am not completely wrapped up. i am not alone or lonely, but i am also mostly inside and outside myself, circling like a satellite around stellar bodies. i am building strength on my own terms. many times i have surprised myself by realizing that the things i am experiencing right now do, indeed, comprise my life.
i have been thinking less, or maybe my thinking patterns have shifted slightly. there has never been a moment in my life when i have been able to turn off my mind; it is always there, always ticking away, constantly turning over rocks and shouting in a manner most aptly compared to the times i accidentally drop the active dyson attachment at work while still holding onto it, the vortex mouth falling right into my ear. i don't think the relative damming of my thought stream means i have disassociated, because it feels different. it may be that i am somehow more able to control my anxieties now, or that they are just less present. still i am too earnest.
at the end of the movie i was watching today, ana´s nin thinks, "i wept because i had lost my pain, and i was not yet accustomed to its absence."