I wander streets in the night, I do. I practice kung fu under the street lights at the end of a dark road at quarter to 2.
Sometimes I thought I had it all figured out.
Swivelling between knowing and unknowing the point of the universe and all of its problems.
It’s a feeling and it comes up deep from my balls and my gut, and my head opens as if it was the same as everything else all along.
Talking about it sometimes, people think I’ve gone crazy. I feel it never occurred to them that I’ve seen something that possibly they haven’t.
It’s true that it’s selfish, but I struggle to see where else I can start other than from the self.
Or maybe the cork popped up in the old brain and I’m now a walking liability.
I don’t know.
I think about words sometimes. Trying to figure out why and where from. My need for insecurity rearing its little nose.
Liability: The ability to lie.
Sometimes I feel like I want to die. It sinks quickly from the high of fullness, down to the low of lost.
I miss the old days that never were, and I miss the opportunity for a life in a fantasy kingdom imagined by writers in a writing room.
I sometimes feel like a ripple a pond. Sometimes I feel like a grain of sand at the bottom of an ocean.
The way the world is looking scares me and I don’t know what to do about it… Is it the feeling or the world?
I love myself, and I hate myself too.
And I get confused about who ‘myself’ is every day.
My back aches from the weary neglect of hours at gyms in the night. And the sweat of anxiety linger as scars to today.i
It’s easy to forget that there is nothing to lose in telling the truth.