2:53 p.m. - Friday, Apr. 30, 2010
Everybody's thinking about the flood . . .
Currently, life is blurry and extremely uncomfortable. I imagine unzipping my skin and stepping out into freedom.
It's the vulnerability. I'll be exposed and on display for about five minutes around 8:15pm tonight. Nothing, you say?
Enough for self-induced panic to set in. Look at your flat, ugly hair. How disgusting. Your arms are so gross. So big and fat. You're like a monster. A freak. And you're going to mess this up. And everyone will think . . .what a freak . . .she makes me sick.
And did you go grocery shopping like you were supposed to? Did you write that e-mail? Are you ever going to practice again? Aren't you supposed to be running every day? You're such a loser.
It sucks being you. It sucks being stuck in your ugly body. It sucks being bound to your self-pitying, heartless soul.
I could kill you, I hate you so much.
__________________
I hear the bird in the tree outside my window. I feel the warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze streaming through the sheer curtains. I feel the keyboard beneath my fingertips. I see my cat sunbathing on the windowsill. I hear a dog howling. If I could howl like a dog, I imagine I would howl just like that. These are things that are true. These things are neither good nor bad. These things just are. I am. Not good or bad. I just am. And that's enough.
�
�
