i often imagine myself as the way a screwdriver being dragged on a junkyard car would sound. not often do i describe things in color, just different shades of grey. this grey is deep. metallic. unforgiving. harsh. indestructible. indecipherable. everything and nothing. like how to humans, air is nothing. but water is something. unlike what maybe a fish thinks. that metaphor is a way to say my brain is nothing. nothing in a sense. now, if i had to pick a color id say deep red. not orange. oh dear god not orange. what a terrible color. red, like blood i guess. not salty and painful like bloodred. full of less than meaningful meanings. thats myself. thats the world around us.
diagnosis is a joke.
myself is an entire different thing from my emotions. people who say they dont feel are deep grey,, the way the rain hits you from the side on a particularly shitty day,, liars in normal words though. but those words dont sound correct anymore. deep grey, cooler purple and the way rain stings at an angle. those are real words. not bullshit normative english. people who say they dont feel are lacking the knowledge of what feeling is. yeah, ive been there. its death. sort of. staring at a tv show for hours while having not a single clue what youre even watching while your sister slaps you across the face to snap back into reality. right as it clicks though, the hand of ohshitthisisreal, youre stomach drops. youve lost it. ive lost it. so though i feel empty im not. i am lacking of something. not nothing. there is something, or i be real dead. real dead. that brings me to
who am i?
people of every age ask that. its like a hand on the back of your head. everytime the uncertainty hits, youre head is squeezed. its only a matter of time till we all blow up.
shards of insecurity in people are like arrows in a fistfight. that stabbing sensation, it never leaves. it will stay forever. almost as if a giant is snapping my back over his knee thousands of times, i am a puppet of myself. i think everyone is. but ive also been told im insane.
lets get into that one too.
in. sane.
am i in. sane. do i alter what sane means? or simply not abide by the laws of sanity?
theyre colors. theyre words. theyre describing. theyre friends on a night where the reality left me lonely.
"you look yellow,"
"i know kate," i say. i can feel the yellow. i feel the raw white part of it mostly. what a disgusting feeling. sharp and inconsistent and unpredictable. if i were to roll a glass jar down a rocky cliff with a doll in it
well lets just say im the doll. my mind is the glass jar. easily damaged maybe. now im really regretting using that metaphor because my mind is complex in many ways no one understands. a glass jar is simply, a glass jar.
"could you possibly take any more room?" says kate. oh yeah
i ignore her. but i do scoot over more to the left side of my creaky, cheap bed.
silence.
silence.
silence.
silence
ohdear
then the buzzing.
its from fear i think. i get dizzy, occasionally pass out. its like the ringing you get in your ears after a gunshot. more often than not it takes away most of my hearing, keeps my trapped in my mind.
thats alright.
kate exists there.
zzzzzzz
zzzzzz
zzzzzz
zzzzzzz
zzzzz
zzzzzz
"i know you cant feel me, but im hugging you."
kate kate kate
that makes me more angry.
"but can you feel me?"
"yes i can"
"whats that like?"
kate thinks. i can feel her blue turn to ice and then crack under pressure. then she softens as she finds an answer. i wait for her to say what she thinks.
"its nice. i think that boom boom is your heart. i wish mine still did that. youre warm. a little too warm but thats okay. back where im from its really cold and sharp.-" she winces when she says sharp. ohmy... poor thing. sharp sharp sharp. icant imagineit. "-you smell like the lowest E on the piano. i dont smell stuff like that anymore. smells more like rust and black when im not with you. uh.. youre skin is like trees in the spring. i dont know how. maybe fresh is the word? no no...-" she gets flustered and blushes "-its more beautiful i dont know. and youre eyes look like life and oceans. i can tell theyve been alone for some time. and they hold a lot lf secrets too. i like that. i think the stuff we do share keeps us together. forever you know?"
i sit up. kate does too.
"why cant i feel you kate?"
"because its wrong. thats why. im not sure why you can see me. hear me. be near me. but you are so just leave it ther-"
"bull fucking shit!" i whisper yell. "bullshit. i want to hug you. i want to hold your hand. i want to know if your skin is scarred like mine or if everything on you is porcelain. do you shiver in the cold? do you smell like a E minor on guitar? do your hands and feet get cold easily? or does this-" i raise my hand to hers. i cant feel it. she can. "-feel like nothing to you too? i want to know where on the colorwheel your lips fall and if theyre even a color at all? which word do they taste like? i want to feel your heartbeat. i want to feel the vibrations of your voice on my neck. i want to be able to describe it a thousand different ways because no one else gets kate. they need to know what its like. i should be able to have that. but i dont"
"you'll feel me one day. ill wait." she doesnt choke out her words. i can tell they pain her though. she doesnt want to wait. its that knot in your throat from tears.
"youll wait? what? wait for me to die of my own hands because i cant stand this earth? people make noises, kate. they chew and tap and im scared alright?"
"dont die because you cant wait. here its really lonely. its orange grey here. its pain and hurt and you cant feel stuff here like you do there."
"what if i dont want to feel stuff anymore. what if the one thing i want to feel is a dimension over and i cant get there any other way?" im calm. im the way wet paint on clay feels, but calm.
"dont do that to me." she sort of begs.
"i know. ill be there someday." i pause. her eyes long for more than what this world is capable of. what do you do when your brain upsets the system?
you cheat it, of course.
