There’s a heat wave. Statistically even. It was on the news and all. And that’s where all the truth comes pouring out, no? That’s the moment we look forward to so we can feel informed. I’m sleeping like a charm though. If I take some precautionary measures. But during the day I’m dragging this awful thing along. It hangs from my spine as if it is attached directly to the cord inside. The pain is like metal flashes of memory cutting and slicing away at my breath. I feel bereft. Cleft in twine, straight down the middle.
It made me think of the wounded, dying girl that cut off her own face as she sank to the floor. Not to be recognized, nor remembered. I thought about the reason for that mutilation in those last seconds for a very long time. Because I did not have to convince myself that it made absolute sense. It just did. I even liked the concept.
I don’t just talk to myself, you know. I do speak to others about this amour for the negative. It still is a delicate subject cause it makes me feel like a sickness to realize that most of my drive and effort stems from the darkest places. I have found myself in others. Not in their words or looks. But in their mistakes. In their experience of weakness. And those weakest of things, we all share. We boil down to the same sordid laughter.
But you are right, most of the time I talk to myself. I don’t know if that’s normal, it just turned out this way. Not like I’m treating 'me' as two or more people, but like someone else altogether. This inner blabber is highly active. As if I’m trying to consider myself. Explaining and justifying. There were far younger days when I subscribed to a code. And while it gave some support, it also meant absolutely nothing. I saw people, friends, completely undermine themselves. Completely fail themselves. And eventually blame me for it. And these wounds run deep like thoughts. Unreachable. Unconscious of where they were born.
The reproaches remain active even after many years of separation and so called growth. Trust is not something earned. It isn’t even real. As many things are not real. But who am I to force this on you. After many years, either you or me, will be proven wrong. So keep up the front and take the gamble. That’s all there’s to it, my friend.