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Sunday, October 26, 2003
You know, that feeling when...
I have this feeling today that feels like I can't express myself; a feeling, one that says under all accounts I cannot. I cannot express myself artistically, mentally, physically, spirtually, adamantly, poetically, invertedly, exvertedly, internally, externally.
I don't know. It's a helpless, buzzing feeling; like a fly buzzing round and round an open, raw, bleeding brain. And it just keeps buzzing around and round me.
See what I mean? I'm not focused today. I feel...dreamy. Like I've been asleep all day, like I've been tired all day. Like I've just been wasting away today, wilting in the infernal, cooly damply dark that is my room, and the things near it.
I don't feel pensive, thoughtful. I just feel like I've sat here all day, and it's as if I've been sleeping away all of today as it elapses its way around me.
I feel like I'm eyes wide shut. Like I'm a window that has its curtains closed, and not much light is moving in, and not much is moving out.
Congested. Digested. Ingested.
Heaved. Wholed. Shoved. Moved. Half asleep, half awake, half in reality. Half in space, half in touch. Half in half. Like a creamy, cream-filled liquid continually strained, drained, rehashed, remade, reeaten, rekissed, reimbibed, reintoxicated, reinflected.
I feel like a beautiful mess, a beautiful crash, a beautiful, dying, wilting, endlessly blowing, endlessly lisping, blade of fine, green, tree-blown blade of grass.
I don't feel desperate today, just useless, just living, just here. Just doing. Just sitting.
I don't know. This post is going nowhere, and that's how I feel today.
I'm stumbling over my words as my words stumble over their vowels as my vowels stumble over the semantics as my semantics stumble over their letters as my letters stumble over my brain and as my brain feels empty and boiling and simmering and welting and breathing through a numbing skin.
...What? Eh.
Don't ask me what this post is about.
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