One day you might find that you do not sleep alone. You’ll have spent your fair share of time on an experiment gone all too well, and spent less time in your personal space. Just when it seems to have become old routine, maybe, you will find yourself in the night, unable to sleep. The person next to you will be there, connected to the world you share, fast asleep.
But you will be awake. Unfortunately you may have responsibilities the following day requiring this to be a mini-reflection, a quasi-spell. The thoughts in your head cannot keep you for too long or you worry of the havoc it will cause on your body. Knowing that rest is not immediate, you very well may get out of bed quietly and walk away.
I can hear insects outside, and I can see the glowing of internet boxes lighting up a shelf in the beast of an entertainment console. It glows orange and red like a cyber fire. The last time this happened was years ago, and I remember seeing an old DVD VCR combo blinking the time in green, over and over again.
Just know that this will be normal. In case you haven’t lived or learned enough yet, it doesn’t mean that anything is wrong or right with your life. Sometimes we reach that odd combo of stresses, worries, anxieties, fears and what-have-yous, and without much focus on any one thing those unsettling ripples will come and go. You can get something to eat. Write. Pray. Whatever you want to do, because you just couldn’t sleep, and you needed a little time for the right chemicals to catch up.
Or it could mean that you are about to change your world. I know that I have come to feel swollen, tight in my skin, like I could hover over a sink, poke my arm with prongs and watch poison fall. Not in any sort of convenient rush, either – more like a small hole you have to squeeze for little drops. This could take a while.
I haven’t got that kind of time.
A few dreams can take you to a few too many places you probably didn’t need to visit. And oh, those unresolveds, those regrets. Just remember they lie within everyone.
I’ll always care too much about what other people think. It doesn’t matter how good I’ve tried to be, there will be people who put me in horns and made me the enemy. What’s important is that I never do that to myself.
My 1st boyfriend once got a message from his friend saying that I would be nowhere if it hadn’t been for him. I still remember reading it from a Razr phone. And there the fear was borne, that I would forever be nothing without other people. It took a while longer, but truth told that I could be something without the both of them. “Fuck her” was certainly how my chapter ended in their book.
I’ll always wish there could have been some magic way to make hurting someone okay. I’ll wish for the knowledge that I had qualified to dare, been smart enough to translate my own emptiness, felt strong enough to act on the fact that I was somewhere I would not stay.
An old pen pal thought I was atrocious. Someone I had drummed up as a hero found me after my adolescent demon had resurfaced, looked at me lost in its aftermath, and told me how disappointed they were in me. “If you’re not happy, GET OUT”, he said.
I would read his sentence several times over, like a question. Wasn’t that a crazy thought?
Wasn’t it nice, Codewriter, to live so many floors high in to the sky, and walk outside at night in a robe just like Spyder Jerusalem? A random pile of desserts and candy spread across the floor from the Asian market, a spreadsheet detailing just how much more money you spent in a relationship than without one? That feeling to be free, say whatever you wanted, do whatever you wanted?
Shame on me for thinking the monster was finished. That you can act like you just forget about shit and distract yourself and start building parallel and it never comes back to knock you over. I was always headed right there, inevitably, to deal with it in final form.
We were all flesh and blood. It scares me to death to even think about. The people, the memories, how the universe I had created had alienated me from ever really feeling here or now, with the physical things that moved past. It was where my voice was, and it was my voice that ever made me anything at all, and got me out of the world of trouble I would have been in had I stayed frozen in moving times.
I’ve gotten much better at bonding to the now, and it requires a lot of work. I give it parts of me, things go practical and I lose the fantastical.
I worry about my family because they’re still all right there, in the older journal entries. They’re in that same place, connected to all of the same things, and sometimes bad things happen. My brother struggles with alcoholism and has remained invalid, my father is on a breathing machine for half the day and my mother had mobility issues due to the need for a second hip replacement. They’re still in that house, dysfunctional but loving as ever, screaming and worrying about me from several hours away.
It doesn’t get better. My brother doesn’t go drug-free and functional. My mother doesn’t walk better. My father’s lungs do not de-crystalize. We can’t just go back and re-read. Each day is the most stable day I have left. And it’s hard. It breaks my heart, trying to celebrate it all when there are times when I could just as well cry.
My moon sister knows something is going on. She posted a photo of her eyes, which I saw in my media scroll before singing “Private Eyes” at the bar, before Dan heard it and it got stuck in his head, and I never told her because of a strange silence I cannot understand other than the simple fact that the moon has always been bloody.
Always been a dark world for us. Always been a part of who we are. And I have been thinking, how poor behaviors were imitated by a others who only brought light of them. Only made good things happen, became the saving grace that makes me smile about the entire goddamn nightmare…
which it finally feels like it is. Enough of a distant memory. Flashes, and who can remember exactly what was real or just real to some one?
Private eyes, clap
They’re watching you *clap clap*
They see your every move.
It is up to me, if everything is going to be alright. Up to me to begin tomorrow and start something over. Up to me, what is carried on…
Then you will simply slip back in to bed.