I'm having one of those days. You know, the days where it's like, this is not my life; I am ineffective, what I do does not matter. My existance has no weight in the karmic universe. Now, while those thoughts sound suicidal, they're not, far from it. I don't know what it is exactly, I'm having an indescribable day.
I feel all disjointed. I can feel my legs working as I walk. The bones and muscles. The fabric feels foreign on my skin. My sweater is heavy, it bears down on my shoulders. I can feel the rubber and foam and leather surrounding my feet. My teeth are each separate entities, unique and individual in my mouth. I can see my eyelashes.
My brain is crowded and my back is lazy. I want it to be Spring. I want a meadow, a field of grass like velvet, I want to know what honeysuckle smells like.
I want to be 11 again, when the creeks actually had water in them. I want to wiggle my toes and stir up the sand at the bottom of the stream. I want to watch the water-bugs skimming across the water. I want to go back to a time when I didn't think of the water as being dirty or diseased. I want to have to be reminded not to drink it. I want to wear flannel shirts and not think in the back of my mind how unfashionable they are. I want to get sunburnt and freckled.
I want to know absolute trust. I don't know if I'll ever be able to have that. I want that feeling. My life is in your hands, and you will not hurt me, you will treat me better than I treat myself. You are my champion. I don't even trust myself completely, how will I ever trust someone else like that? Why do I want something so foreign to me? Something so distant and unattainable.
It's like there's mosquito netting between me and the world I want. I can push and lean against the screen, but I don't want to slice it open because then all the bad stuff on my side of the net will get in and spoil my perfect world. I want to live in my perfect world without leaving the imperfect one. I want to escape my body without changing it. What would it be like to not have to live with the ideas that are already in my head?
I don't want to live with the consequences. My body is filled with consequences. I am a jar filled with preserved consequences. They hold me prisoner and choke me on consequences.