Loneli[n]essT

He says it could have been something i said
or did
or didn't do
that drove [them] out of my life.

i'm getting really hot so i turn away and swallow this little white pill that i have.

"you're being rude. I'm trying to help you," he says.

i know that and press my palms into my eyes until they ache.

i ache.

my eyes are dull and i don't know how to be happy anymore.

He sits down on the floor next to me and i think he might hold my hand, but he'll never do that.

"Let's go grab a drink."

i don't say anything.

"It'll help," he promises.

i know that too.

"I've never broken a promise to you." He says he's not like him [them]. "Give Me more credit."

i don't give him anything because the white pill is starting to work and i'm finally in a white place where he [they] can't come.

-rae

'A' is for Absolution.

'B' is for Brighten.

I'm waiting for the darkness that's been clouding my mind to dissolve and make room for [something]--'--'------I vaguely recall.

          I do remember how it feels to fall asleep with good feelings and accomplishment. Just the smallest hint of satisfaction. I do recall catching my reflection in the mirror and not only being content with who would look back, but being proud.

          I'm waiting for myself to leave the house without seeing the perils from outside running at me. 

          I'm waiting for the shadows under my eyes and the tired look my skin has to liven up again.

Brighten.

         

          I'm waiting for the day when 

         I see pictures of old friends and old lovers et al. and 

           I can smile instead.

           I can be happy instead.

I can move on instead of

[anything but!!] this.

-rae

ə hol ʌðəɹ θiŋ ɛntaɪɹli

"Where did you go?" sobbed the tortoise as it's creator came into view after a long while.
"Away," said the tortoise's creator quietly. "I left when you asked me to."
"I'm so sorry," said the tortoise, crying and hiding it's face. "I don't want to disappoint you anymore."
"No need for words," said the tortoise's creator, crying with the tortoise and making sure the tortoise took deep breaths. "You were already forgiven. I've never loved you more than I love you now."

-rae

See here.

When I was diagnosed with ADD, so much was explained: the frequently missed (and NEVER completed) assignments; the bizarre ability to be occupied by my own thoughts for hours; the moments when I'd simply not hear what anyone had been saying for the last twenty minutes.

But one thing I've never understood is something my dear mama calls my "hyper focus".

I don't understand how someone who is very clearly an Avid Day Dreamer can enjoy spending hours doing the same, monotonous task such as ripping paper into even squares, or copying paragraphs from textbooks.

I don't know what possesses my mind to make it believe that mastering a rubix cube, memorizing world countries and capitals, or, more currently, the periodic table of elements is without a doubt amongst the top of my priorities. (Let alone FUN).

It does take a different form though.

In my senior year of high school, there were three things I wanted more than anything:

•To be in the top a cappella choir,

•To be elected into student council,

•To be accepted into a certain university.

Within the past few months, I've become conscious of a problem: a mutated form of tunnel vision.

I think tunnel vision can be a great quality for some people: you see what you want, there are no other options. Therefore, you do everything required to reach the end of that tunnel.

But my tunnel vision mutation not only switches off, but completely disconnects the helpful reminder in my brain that says, "consider your options."

When I essentially failed to reach all of my goals, I was absolutely lost. I searched for a fall back, but there was none that I was satisfied with because I hadn't constructed any "worst case scenario" detours in my tunnel. The only exit had closed, and I was trapped in the cold and the dark without any food or books for the long trek back to the beginning.

This focus literally exhausts me. I put so much energy in the mere act of wanting something, let alone in the steps it takes to achieve it.

But 'wanting' isn't the right word.

I didn't want to be in student council,

I needed to.

I don't like learning completely trivial information,

I have to.

And I don't simply fall for someone,

I throw myself off of a cliff and then fall. Hard and fast.

It feeds on my thoughts.

It eliminates my other goals.

It numbs my reason.

Now, I'm sitting here, almost wishing that someone would zero the counter, just so I can start over.

So the smoke that was coming from the end of the tunnel of what I knew to be a brilliant bonfire will stop choking me, and seep into my clothes and furniture instead, reminding me that there was a fire. That there was warmth.

Maybe a better reason for letting the smoke permeate my mind would be to remind me that getting so high off of my hopes leaves me with virtually no one to blame but myself when I come back down.

But I know myself too well to believe that would work; Instead of turning back around the other way, I entertain the notion of waiting to see if the end of the tunnel could possibly re-open--that I might restart the fire once it stops raining.

-rae

First, II, 3rd

There aren't any words for this. I lean forward and squeeze my head to make it stop.

You've tried taking a nap but your foot won't stop shaking and your eyelids won't stop snapping open. Think about it. Think about it--what do you need?

I need a nap. I'm so tired.

The wall behind me has started shaking because of a vent in the building or something. My foot is still shaking but I can't shake it as fast as the wall. It's driving me crazy.

No, not crazy.

...I'm being oddly sympathetic with myself today. It's unsettling.

Maybe it's because now is not the time to be pushing yourself. Not the time at all. And besides, you have work in a little bit. You like work. You like the people you work with. How much more unsettling is that?

Jude chides in at this point:

Taking something for granted and taking advantage of something can easily be mistaken for the other.

Taking something for granted almost always produces regretful or even resentful feelings in the subject. For example, if the sun were to shine brightly all day, but one were to stay inside without knowing that the remainder of summer would bring rain or storms or possibly an alien invasion, then one would find oneself slouching in the rain or snow or falling martians, feeling regretful or even resentful for taking the previous day for granted.

On the other hand, if one were to take advantage of the sunny day, one may not feel as much sorrow in being showered with rain or pelted by hail or probed by aliens because at least they got a pretty decent tan.

So, to say the least, she immediately took advantage of this kindness, and within the next minute, she successfully retreated into the front of her mind. (The back, in her opinion, was not worth tidying up at this point.)

She settled in her sanctuary, a word which here means "a safe haven in which she could temporarily feel Nothing and not have Nothing berate her for it."

At least until you see the mountains again.

-rae

Bumblebee. Bumblebee.

Today is interesting.

I am not ecstatic.

I am not devastated.

I am not happy.

I am not sad.

I am not content.

I am not blue.

I am zero.

My voice teacher used to tape record warm-ups during my lessons.

On the recorder, there was a button that would make some moving numbers next to it turn to zero whenever I pushed it. I eventually figured out that it was a kind of bookmark. (I just looked it up, it's really called a tape counter.) Like if I set it to zero when my teacher started warm-up number three, I could fast-forward or rewind all I wanted and warm-up three would always be at zero.

Most of the time, I started the tape over, so I didn't have a use for this little gadget.

Except I played with it a lot.

I pushed it at random times while singing and pressed it rapidly when I rewound or fast-fowarded.

You don't understand how pleased I was to feel the little shift when the wheel reset itself to zero.

It was remarkably satisfying.

Except the wheel eventually couldn't reset itself as easily as before.

It would either take a few tries or it would slip back to the number it was at before if I didn't hold it down.

I was a little bummed about my new toy being broken, but then my lessons ended and I forgot about the tape recorder until... now.

Today, I have:

gone on a run,

watched a movie for class,

received bad news,

chatted with several old friends,

received great news,

read Great Expectations,

napped in the JFSB,

missed French...

Like my old tape recorder, it's apparently very simple for someone to just toggle with my counter as well... because whether each of these activities brought me joy or discontent, I can't tell you, as someone keeps zeroing my counter.

And I can only sit here neutrally and hope that they don't break it.

-rae