and you know what? the other night someone suggested i was having a nervous breakdown and i was all no no fine fine. and while i now admit i … ahhhhh … er … was … not entirely accurate, i must now asseverate that it is in fact a very calm and reasonable breakdown, and that it was an appropriate choice in these circumstances, not the only alternative, however the others were less amusing.
i’m underground with the moles, digging holes.
and in ways i take exception to the breakdown allegations, well i do now as oppsed to, you know, what i just said, and my reasoning is based on recognizing that what’s been happening has in fact been an existential crisis of sorts which you can not tell me is some sort of diagnosable mental whatever. in fact if it were contagious i’d urge you to come over here, closer, share this discovery with me and besides i have some answers already, they are here on the tip of my tongue waiting to be written on skin.
in me i have whimsy where i get confused between what could have been in a different world and what i still believe might in the one i’m in now. can you feel the presence of doubt? that’s new, you know. couldn’t pinpoint the first time a daydream faltered on a gentle suggestion that i let this go now, it’s time and for the first time here is this irrevocable barrier between me and the dream, no path around the reasons it’s a dream in the first place, and …
i am not quite ready for the letting go. and i am not even going to try to explain how i managed to free-associate out of a breakdown and into the entirely unrelated ongoing saga of my vivid imagination’s recent foray into serious windmill-tilting. as far as the digression, i will tell you i let it happen, probably there is some sort of hope involved in this almost dangerous openness? it could be that i see your hand in my mind, with mine almost not quite touching and the energy easily passing through the air and if this never happens (here are the doubts) will you ever wonder what happens next?
you know the feeling strolling outside into the midsummer sun wearing exactly nothing, the way the air discovers you and teaches you the difference between being unclothed, and being naked, things your own body didn’t even know? it’s quite enlightening, but it is not what happens next. what happens after the first touch and until the hunger subsides isn’t something i can explain, as it happens in a language of breath and taste and otherwise unspoken things except for names and please and fuck and when you think you are spent i … have said too much already.
i’m fine. goodness, yes. doesn’t matter what’s actually possible, only that i cannot yet believe this isn’t.