spinning

 

Each time I look back at my life, I get hypnotized. By all the great things I did, by all the terrible things I did, by all the angles of myself that are fascinating and complex and non-existent. and time sits by my side laughing so hard, tears rush down her eyes. I want to spin faster than time, I want to slow down so I can dissect exactly how I do it, so I can make it happen whenever I choose, instead of struggling to breaking point each time.

im warring with time here, the meaning of minutes that run away so quickly, more minutes watching steadily over me, the minutes leaving under crossfire, the minutes that become hours and days and years, growing giant and scary and loud, the minutes that become seconds and disappear, leaving no traces behind, perfect crimes that live on as punishment in my cursed memory. Time as I had always understood it, as I had been taught for years by an illusion of common agreement is being taken away and replaced with something black and hurt. not harmful, not helpful, just change, a battle without reason or light, with an outcome requiring intense faith, that used to be time for me.

I want time to be distraught, and decisive, or at least have the courtesy to be transparent. Instead of morphing constantly, leaving me uneasy and alone and ever unbalanced. Loneliness is usually my privilege but now im getting addicted, forgetting how my tongue works, forgetting smiles and recognition, forgetting regular courtesies, forgetting to wait, to touch, to go where im wanted, to leave when im asked, im getting slow. Simple movements are becoming projects, the roads are getting closer each day than my mind. The left side of my head hurts, my periods of drama grow further and further in my field of view, grow quicker to envelope me in full 3-d immersion of dispassionate fantasy.

And I know it will all get right once I figure out this new time. Once I have it mapped out in detail in my head, once I learn how to work it in a non-linear fashion, to empty every knowledge of time I was taught, and track this new creature step by step into submission. And I do see the potential, I see what cannot be imagined slowly descending into my field of vision if I only accepted it, without questioning, without judging, going against everything I stand for.

Thats the stumbling block, giving up all concepts of ID I have so far made my own, giving up all the holding I thought necessary, I did to pretend I was myself, and to accept with as much unravelling time as I can, that I will never be myself. Because my self only exists in the fully flawed perceptions of those who reflect light off me.

While its a comforting ID, a solid being with lots of excellent qualities, lots of hated features, lots of big worldly adult things, a job, a house, all the whatsitcalleds, it grows heavy. It gets cancerous at times, and foolish at others, it cannot even turn around without some telltale object or other falling off, its a big important person with goals and problems and meanings and gravity and I am just a transparent and temporary flitterbug. Spinning until I get dizzy and falling down to sleep for twenty years. Or was it just a minute...