Brains!

I feel like I am looking at myself the way I might look at a history book. It’s just the big events, important to someone and no one at the same time. And you never really know how they happened, it just did, and now here we are in the perils of our time. Loosing touch with what we used to be everyday and moving towards cold metal. I wish I could know what it was, and is, to be so intimately connected with the earth that you can sense a storm hours away and tell where the path is in the woods. But those days will never be, and they are disappearing for those who know those things. They will be gone soon, ground into powder and swallowed up by the oozing cancer.

I think for me, I submerge things, weigh them down into a pool, where eventually they pile up and I can see them surface slowly. Then things get dark, the light flickers and I grow irritable, frustrated and I want to distance myself from the things that matter most. One day I get pushed over the edge, and I have to stare at these things floating around what a seemingly pristine pool. All I can remember from those times, is rushing into the water tossing and churning up a whirlpool of these things. Ultimately I want the objects to be the way I want them to be, because I feel like only then will things be perfect. When finally they settle to the bottom again, I am numbed, walking around blinded, even more distant. But now I am wading everyday into that pool to push them down-wanting the pond to swirl around naturally without intervention, just acceptance. I just want to let things be, because why should they change? Yet deep down in my belly I know that there is unrest, there is this thorn trying to tell me something but I wont listen. I wonder sometimes, if the pool is a place I have created over this past year-for it will be a year soon, in order to keep myself in a safe place. No worries about love, place.

I’ve been playing WoW. Although I know it’s such an awful disease that I vowed never to catch, because it is the seed of the things that I try to drown in my pool and the cancerous metal that is swallowing up the human being, I still go back to it. It’s mindlessness, like watching TV, letting it do the thinking for me. Not only that but the attention I get from the Guildie’s draws me in. I feel childish, like a middle school girl shaving her legs for the new boy at school-the one rumored to have a crush on you. I like “boy company” frankly.

In an effort to counteract the numbness of my swirling pool and the numbness of WoW, I have been drawing and I recently picked up a book. Books were my first lovers. They pleasured me, gave me strength and hope, taught me how to live. But they are gone now, replaced by flesh and dripping wet metal, twirling down into the bottom off the pool.