5.19.01 - 10:48

everything is beautiful and nothing hurts and then you start pushing a little bit. pulling a little bit. it's a vise tightening. it's my eyes pinned open. it's breathing underwater. i'm trying. i'm trying as hard as i can. what do we call them? defense mechanisms? it seems a little weak when we're talking about living or dying because pain is different, we know how to hurt now, we don't run away from it, we know the deepest hurt.

what am i all about? not me. oh my. i turned myself inside out and lost myself in the plane with no surface. wouldn't that be something. you don't even know her and you're making judgments and taking pictures and keeping the pictures and keeping the judgments, maybe tying them together. it is very important for you to make these things facts and when they're not you look back, over your shoulder, and then you look in front, and then you say, ok. it's fine. it always is. and now they're facts. because of the way you twisted your neck or maybe because of what you saw behind you. i don't see it, but sometimes when i open my eyes there isn't anything there.

what time did you mean when you mentioned breakfast? you told me you were from the southern hemisphere and you weren't used to heat in june, the ice of december, but you're wrong because it's really just so arbitrary. nothing matters. that's why you thought nothing hurt. if it doesn't hurt it doesn't mean anything. oh, she told me i was wrong once, but i don't have to believe that. i know the things i've learned.

oh my god. we're not even talking about me. if you close your eyes you can feel yourself disappear but it's impossible to know what really happens, if the world melts around you or if everything stays the same, if you stay the same, if you open your eyes and come back as a different person, in a different world, oh, there's so many things that we can't ever know.

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