When the curious girl realizes she is under the glass

Fine, I let the red creep in. It stretches back my entangled eyelashes pulls apart the small crease between bottom and top eyelids and jumps through the empty pupil into a metropolis of hyper sensitive nerves. All this communicates that if I don�t use my muscles to exit the cocoon of rest, then rest will become foreign. And today it has. Today in ignorance of how the world organizes its life, I am lost. Overwhelmed, shaken by fear that this ignorance keeps tearing me further and futher from normalized life, I tear back into my soft layers of sleep. Within the layers every clock face is kept at a safe distance. I bare the nightmares.

My expectations are perilous. Your understanding is marred and I know I presented the only interpretation in such a manner. It seems every day is a rambling explication of nothing and my consciousness rolls around from these conversations as if they are the only breathing moments. At any other given time my breath is held, waiting, confused, unsure of purpose. And in a few moments I will be out of this moment and into the next. In a few moments this breathlessness will be forgotten.

I will be solitary. No matter how many things surround me. No matter how many bodies. I will be solitary at my four legged chair sipping red iced liquid letting it stream down my dry throat into a decaying stomach wishing that something would jump there beside and lead the substance to be gentle and speak wisdom to the organs which are conspiring against me.

If life were a gigantic chess board, (i am aware that it is not) and we all were being lifted around as part of an attempt to capture the opposition, I could only guess that I�d be a horse. The horses are the ones I hate. They don�t move normally. Up and over and over and up and even if the opposing pieces is right there, diagonal, practically touching, it can�t do anything about it. Instead the horse must get far enough away to attack. Not that in reality the horse has anything to say about it. It�s all part of something beyond its control. But down inside the battle, movements seem independent of whatever supposed plan is being played out.

I�m having a hard day.

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