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Wednesday |
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am i condemned to making the same mistakes over and over again? i don't seem to have a very good grasp of my own reality. am i seeking a static peace, a quiet vibration, white noise acclimation? moving forward--who wants that? all progress leads to death. regression, on the other hand, is warmer and more easily accessed. how can you tell if the choice you've made is good or bad? the past often looks better than the present to which i've condemned myself. i once took it on faith that me is who i was supposed to be so i kept creating evidence to support that supposition. now i'm not so sure, licking the wound just keeps it open, and when something nudged my toe today in the murky water i half hoped it was a shark because being eaten alive is at least honest. but it wasn't, or maybe it was; it just swam off. the sun kissed my pale skin, burned with promise, a flabby and disconnected tourist. eyes closed, i swim and breathe and float, the ocean amniotic. |