I cut myself on a piece of chicken wire. I slid my hand over a seemingly innocuous edge, and was sliced down the length of my pinky finger. It bled a thin blood that i am used to. this crimson water flowed out of 3 half inch thin fissures. One each for the segments of my small finger. The two closest to my palm are not deep, revealing the direction of the cut. My hand travelled forward and the tip section cut through the deepest because i flinched and pulled my hand up away from the danger. So those two cuts, the lower ones, are fine. I see them and know that they are there, but i don’t feel them. The one on the end of my digit, the deep one, which in all honesty is not that deep, is still making me know that it’s there. when my finger curls under itself, the cut splits open, the upper dermal layer drifting apart, exposing fresh flesh to the world. Then the parts come back together and try to fuse themselves together. I can feel it. And all i can do is bring myself to curl my finger so i can feel that split. so i can feel the world open up. the wound open up. i try keep it as fresh as possible for as long as possible. It feels like it’s alive. it feels like it’s trying. and i appreciate that.
My back aches from… just being alive. just being in this place of feeling outstretched. i feel life pulling away from me and trying hard to reach out to pull it back. But it aches from work too. It has been stressful. I feel responsible to everyone, to help them become better and confident in the things they do, the things they try to achieve. But it becomes difficult when my own confidence wanes from lack of using it. I’m sure of myself in some respect, however there are moments when it all feels like too much. But i try, i try my hardest to make this happen, to make the world turn, and i see it happen, but the toll it’s been taking is slightly arduous. But i wouldn’t trade it for anything. I wouldn’t ever give this up. I am nervously excited everyday, waiting to figure it out. But I’m not young anymore, and i feel this shift to a new decade looming on the horizon.
I was thinking that maybe i was going through some 1/3 life crisis. I’m not sure i will live to be 90, but it seems like that might be a number i could hit. I sort of feel like i am going a little crazy and being a bit rambunctious to the status quo. I don’t know if that is a life crisis so much as it is a life. I have this feeling that i am finally this thing i had set out to be, and now i want to do something with it. I want to use this crazy thing i just made before it feels like it’ll leave me or that it’ll be time to be more steady. I have no crisis with this, but a person rarely can see the situation they are in while being embroiled in it. They need distance. And i don’t have any of that. 30 is a real number. an age when my dad already had one child and another quickly on the way. a job. a house. all real things. For me they seem so far off in the distance. so not of my world. not right now. and feeling that makes me wonder what i have been doing and why have i been doing what it is i am doing. But maybe this is normal. maybe this is the way it needs to be.
I feel like i’ve been brash. i’ve been so forward with my feelings because in this old age i know that the worst thing i could do is hold them in as secrets for myself. In a situation where i cannot win in any direction, but that lack of winning does not exclude the potential for losing, all i can do is put myself out there. put my thoughts and feelings out there, in light of losing face or having my pride and ego bruised, and my heart being hurt, because the pain of keeping it in is more than i could bare, i have no choice. my chest feels stretched in a way that makes me feel like there is not enough room for my heart in there. that it is banging around and is now achy and in need of some rest. It makes me short of breath and my hands go numb. These sensations are so real and so present, and my awareness is so keen, everything is heightened.
I could talk ad nauseum about what is going on in me for you. But i’ve scared you off. i’ve put you away from this, from wanting to know this. All it seems like it’s done is make you feel like this might be something to deal with, like a chore, rather than being natural and easy. My head swims in it’s own murky waters.
happy valentine’s day.
My eyes are heavy. One day the things i think will be different than what i think now. I wonder when it’ll be. i don’t want to rush to that point.
The sensation of perfect music is the most amazing thing. it makes me know that the world is right, that the things i’m trying to do are right because i feel that it can’t be any other way. That in the face of adversity and defeat, that the things i do are worth doing because there are other people that need me as much as i might need them.
I’m rambling and not making sense because rest is what i need.
