pls @anyonewhocanmakeitstop

i keep making vaguely suicidal jokes and references on this post, but that's not great, is it. probably shouldn't put that out there for the public.

 

*delete*

it has been a hell of a year.

and it's not done. it's not over yet.

i just need it to be over.

Within, without

the closet door sticks
a hesitant heaviness to the handle

but I yank it open.

close
closure
close door
close her in

crisis

it's stuck.

she is me
she is free
we can be
we must be

but I scrape it shut.

the closet door clicks
a lost lament in the latch

It goes in cycles.

It is...very frustrating to be fractured. You have a couple of days that seem okay, and you try on a smile or two, and they don't hurt. You let yourself imagine a future where that is normal. You feel almost....good.
And that is exactly when it all goes to hell and you realize suddenly that leaving the house today was a mistake all by itself. Everything is too much: lights too bright, voices too loud, and there is somehow a rumbling growl under everything that shakes you to your spine. You are stuck on a bench, frozen there, unable to get up and go home but about to cry in public if you stay.
You thought you were past this, and you hoped that things were getting better. Guess you just forgot that you're fractured.

Theory

Language is nonsense. Or, rather, the way we use language to construct our conceptualization of the world is nonsensical.

Consider the notion of publics, counterpublics, and mini-publics. Consider networking. Consider any kind of metaphorical grouping of persons that tries to explain the inexplicable by rendering personalities into objects on a graph or a grid or a diagram. We use language to pretend we are one of something larger than ourselves, that each of us is unified in purpose and selfhood and that that cohesion of self is aimed in the exact direction as our fellows. Language squashes whatever individuality we possess and stuffs us into a public, or a network, or a category, and we are relieved to know that we match someone, at least.

None of it is concrete, but we act like it is. We talk like it is. We write like it's real.

Nonsense.

Powerful motivator

Fascinating, interesting, neat, cool. Intriguing, even.

Words we use to bring up something random that we want to talk about, something that struck us as new or different or meaningful. As in, "Isn't it interesting to think about . . . " or "I'm so fascinated by . . . "

When what we really mean is, "This topic inspired a feeling in me" and "This is something I think is important, but I'm afraid to give you that power over me."

Isn't it interesting to think about the way fear can close us off? I'm fascinated by the cages we build for ourselves from the anticipated judgement of others.

older and wiser i am apparently not

I'm all jittery and my hands feel like spider webs and my sternum is all spindly like I'm about to fly apart or collapse and I'm in this circular situation of waiting-hoping-squashing all because once again I wanted to believe in a friend and it was a mistake it is a mistake it will always be a mistake

What's another word for older?

Obligatory birthday post:

I went out and bought things and ate food. I derived a sense of pleasure from these activities. Huzzah.

And so far, no crying! That is a plus. The night is relatively young, so I'll hang on to the tissues.

26, yo.