What? No trip this week? The words ring around my empty head. It's as if it is the only thing that mattered and there is a feeling of uneasiness. I grope around, pacing restlessly along the sun baiste floor of the living room. Everything felt wrong and the air felt stifling. I feel dizzy and a sort of energy hole drained the life out of me through this weakness. What is wrong with me? Micro fractures in my skull form as I try and figure out , but everything I come up with ends up making no sense. The reasons I lay down before me fall short in fully explaining the severity of these emotions.
I sit down and try to rest. I take a look at my fingers. It felt as if I've lost something. Yes, my empty hands feel weird. They long for touch. I trace the ridges of lines that run circles underneath the skin. The creases that form every time I close my hands magnify as shadows form on my otherwise pale palms. They need blood. A rush of blood is what they need. They are thirsty and hungry at the same time, like a vampire to blood and a werewolf to raw flesh. The pain if feels upon the bite of sharpness and the desperate frictionless feeling it tries so hard to latch on to become food, a basic need that needs to be met.
My skin grows more sensitive. My hands feel light, my fingers feel feathery. I raise my hands onto a small edge on the archway that opens to the living room. My feet slowly lifts from the glassy floor. The uneven surface of the edge pierce the skin on my fingers. Food. A momentary sustenance. It doesn't last long. The moment I let go, more of the hunger rattles my senses. I'm going crazy, I feel I'm going nuts. Again I try to fend off the rushing desperation. I'm tempted to let out a shout to help me breathe. I am beyond reason.
It's calling out to me. It's need for me is as much as my own need for it. I can't refuse it. I have become part of something bigger. To some, maybe it is trivial. A passing expression of aesthetic kinesiology. To others it may also seem foolish. It doesn't matter. Reckless passion drives me deeper into the depths of this journey. I am discovering more and more of life, of pain, of temporary victories... It's humanity in it's full magnificence. The shards have been truly, deeply imbedded in me. Rational thinking forms but a shadow behind me as I walk head-on. Emotion and savagery dictate the steps I take.
I sit down and try to rest. I take a look at my fingers. It felt as if I've lost something. Yes, my empty hands feel weird. They long for touch. I trace the ridges of lines that run circles underneath the skin. The creases that form every time I close my hands magnify as shadows form on my otherwise pale palms. They need blood. A rush of blood is what they need. They are thirsty and hungry at the same time, like a vampire to blood and a werewolf to raw flesh. The pain if feels upon the bite of sharpness and the desperate frictionless feeling it tries so hard to latch on to become food, a basic need that needs to be met.
My skin grows more sensitive. My hands feel light, my fingers feel feathery. I raise my hands onto a small edge on the archway that opens to the living room. My feet slowly lifts from the glassy floor. The uneven surface of the edge pierce the skin on my fingers. Food. A momentary sustenance. It doesn't last long. The moment I let go, more of the hunger rattles my senses. I'm going crazy, I feel I'm going nuts. Again I try to fend off the rushing desperation. I'm tempted to let out a shout to help me breathe. I am beyond reason.
It's calling out to me. It's need for me is as much as my own need for it. I can't refuse it. I have become part of something bigger. To some, maybe it is trivial. A passing expression of aesthetic kinesiology. To others it may also seem foolish. It doesn't matter. Reckless passion drives me deeper into the depths of this journey. I am discovering more and more of life, of pain, of temporary victories... It's humanity in it's full magnificence. The shards have been truly, deeply imbedded in me. Rational thinking forms but a shadow behind me as I walk head-on. Emotion and savagery dictate the steps I take.
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