Friday, October 12, 2012

I want to love people to the point of dying. It fills me up so that I wish I could give it away! But they are not here and I believe in positive energies traveling but I guess not really. It's because my life is words.

I almost fall off the couch. The futon is slipping from the frame I will not re-arrange it. The reality is the futon is slipping from the frame. The reality is I am choosing to make something of it. I have spent most of my life, like this: in a dream where everything mattered, where nothing touched me.

Now I am bumped left and right and sideways by bodies everywhere, moving. Now the sidewalk is hard beneath my feet, the smell-sounds invade me, even the pigeons brush their sickly wings against my shoulders. We talk about mundane things and then we argue and then we watch TV.

I am told this is part of growing up.
I do not want to write things, now, and look back on my writing, then, thinking, she was a child then. It is likely inevitable. I am 25 and I still like my mattress on the floor, frameless. The TV makes fun of me: I am a child because my mattress is on the floor. One day, when I am, actually, an adult, I will not believe it appropriate to put a mattress on the floor.

I don't even own a box spring. I shouldn't watch TV. No shit!

Fall is killing me, with missing Pennsylvania. Fall always kills me. My favorite season.

The point, right? To die, to be reborn. I've read the literature. I've spoken the scriptures with the old women in the church, ceiling high, white, triangular. I've watched plants grow. 

In the dream-land I never died. Or I died all the time; right now I can't remember. In the dream-land I was more or less awake than I am now. I was more or less real. I want to live life, the real thing, whatever that is.


We make it, I know. But we do not create something from nothing, physics tells us. Okay then. I want to touch the something that exists before I make something of it. I want that to be my reality. I want to hold it in my fist and raise it up to the trees losing their leaves and say, Here! Yes! I've got it! 

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