Tonight
after work I was walking. Very slowly. And at one point I was getting
pretty far away from myself. Far away from what it was like to be me. Stepping outside of myself. And almost escaping myself. That happened
for a good long while. Hours at least. I got lost on a real country
road. Miles away. Really. It was wonderful. I had to use an electric
map to get back. Before that happened a cop
found me. He made a thing clear to me. That walking. At night. On a public road. Is deviant behavior. It's threatening behavior. It's suspicious behavior. People don't like it. They don't want me to do it. They will try to stop me from doing it. They will get others to help them. This was made
clear to me. I am not. One of you. It is not okay. To be me. This was
made clear.
During and around all of this a seemingly interminable
period went by. I wound up in Denton again near where I started from.
Walking close to the store and away. And I see headlights forming
around me. So I move over to the right onto the sidewalk. To give them
room to go by. The headlights don't go by but they fade away. I keep
walking. Then they come back. I keep walking some more but they don't go
away again. They stay with me. So I stopped. I stopped and stood there
motionless. Waiting for the headlights to go by. They never went by.
They just stayed there shining on me and I stood still. Shining on my
back as I stood there. Motionless.
About a minute went by. Finally I
turned around. I stood there turned around and looked at the car that
was there. Shining its lights on me. It didn't move. I didn't move. I
stood there looking at it for a while. Another minute of silent standing
went by. About fifteen feet separated me from the car. I was on the
sidewalk. The car was pulled over to the side of the road. I took two
steps toward the car and it sped away. It sped away instantly like a
bat out of hell. Like a frightened thing. Am I a frightening thing?
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Monday, August 4, 2014
The awfulest horriblest thing
I
feel sick. I feel like everything around me is just this thick stuff...
like the volume of space that I move through is made out of some kind of
transparent, suffocating yuck. I'm nauseous and I want to throw up,
but its all up in my windpipe and down in my lungs, and into my stomach,
and its like I'm embedded in jello; without any flavor or nourishment
or purpose, except to just make things slow and difficult and awful.
Where did this stuff come from? This is bad with a purpose. To hurt and injure, and to wound... deep down. This ain't like looking at a rock and imagining that you could carve it into something nice. This ain't even like just looking at a rock because it's a rock. This is like looking at a rock and knowing that it wants to dash your brains in as hard as it can. This is the essence of evil expressed as a fractal. It's pure malice; intricate and infinite. It's not like a corrupted thing around me... it is corruption itself that I slog through every day and that I am smothered by every night, as it slowly insinuates itself into my pores. It's the thing that is inspiring me right now to describe it in such detail and with such passion. It's the stuff I'm inside of that is trying to remake me out of it, so that I'll disappear inside of it and never know that I was ever a thing apart and separate from it. It doesn't want to corrupt me - it wants to disappear me inside of it. So that I become corruption.
Isn't all of that just the awfulest thing to think, and to write down, and to publish publicly, for everyone to see and know? Isn't that just the horriblest thing for someone to have inside, and to acknowledge? It's a slimy, malignant, vicious and repugnant thing that slips through my mind as if it were in my hands. As I pull it up to the surface of my awareness, I can feel long, stringy pieces of it - cancerous tumors which are forced to function as veins and arteries, filled with putrid, rotten puss blood shit - pop and break and spew as they are exposed and die. And then it all just turns to ash and dust.
Where did this stuff come from? This is bad with a purpose. To hurt and injure, and to wound... deep down. This ain't like looking at a rock and imagining that you could carve it into something nice. This ain't even like just looking at a rock because it's a rock. This is like looking at a rock and knowing that it wants to dash your brains in as hard as it can. This is the essence of evil expressed as a fractal. It's pure malice; intricate and infinite. It's not like a corrupted thing around me... it is corruption itself that I slog through every day and that I am smothered by every night, as it slowly insinuates itself into my pores. It's the thing that is inspiring me right now to describe it in such detail and with such passion. It's the stuff I'm inside of that is trying to remake me out of it, so that I'll disappear inside of it and never know that I was ever a thing apart and separate from it. It doesn't want to corrupt me - it wants to disappear me inside of it. So that I become corruption.
Isn't all of that just the awfulest thing to think, and to write down, and to publish publicly, for everyone to see and know? Isn't that just the horriblest thing for someone to have inside, and to acknowledge? It's a slimy, malignant, vicious and repugnant thing that slips through my mind as if it were in my hands. As I pull it up to the surface of my awareness, I can feel long, stringy pieces of it - cancerous tumors which are forced to function as veins and arteries, filled with putrid, rotten puss blood shit - pop and break and spew as they are exposed and die. And then it all just turns to ash and dust.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)