i don’t think rock bottom exists. I’ve heard the expression my whole life, and then i’ve heard people say they went even deeper, but i don’t think it’s real in the first place. Because i’mve “hit rock bottom” dozens of fucking times and i never pulled myself up. i never got better from it. the entire idea is a fucking stupid phrase
i think instead of rock bottom there’s just a pit. that’s all. i think it’s just a big hole in the ground and when you’re falling, then you’re falling. no bottom. no end. and maybe if you’re fucking crazy you can grab onto a ledge or something, some rock that would’ve brained you if you’d hit it at the wrong angle. and you can maybe pull yourse’f up a bit. but you’re still halfway down an endless pet/
that’s a long climb.
that’s a narrow ledge, too.
It’s weird that when I’m bad in the brain, my body is slow too. When the fog is clouding or rather fogging my thoughts, my arms move slow. heavy. i walk slow, i feel weighed down. there’s a kind of focus that appears, where everything external about me is dedicated to a simple task: to keep the trainwreck internal.
i can’t write with my eyes open. i can’t see the words show up on the page each one taking just a bit more of myself and putting it out, in here, in everywhere. more and more vulnerable by the letter. so i close my eyes tight. and my head swirls, swirls like crazy. i feel like i’m on a carousel. i feel like i’m gonna vomit.
suddenly im in a meditative state. my eyes are closed, my lids feel heavy. there’s no swirling now, no tension from a furrowed brow. my mind is focused on something:
i see myself crying
things are swirling again
i want to comfort myself.
i want [me] to be happy. i empathize with [me].
i feel a sort of tearing at my personal fabric. there i am, in the void at the bottom of everything, the great field, unified or no and i feel it ripping me up. i know it knows i don’t belong her, i’m not even unified in it. but the deeper i fell the more i felt i belonged, and now i have no way of moving past it.
i thik im disappearing. parts of me are becoming parts of others. my hands belong elsewhere. my mouth won’t open, even for the laugh that the thought makes me want to belt out. im sure even if i wanted to open my eyes i coulnd’t. they’re welded together, to me, to the field.
im nothing but a thought. a soul i guess. i am a moment, knowing itself, feeling the warmth around it. now there’s no movement. the swirling is gone. the tearing stopped as there’s nothing eleft to tear. i am alone in an endless light. it sparkles with joy and it dims with sadness, revealing such wondrous depth and hue that i feel joined with. understood by.
the word nirvana drifts through me. So does heaven. paradise. fulfillment, a million others. but they fade away like the rest of me. the nowhere i am cant be named. it doesnt deserve one. it deserves to sstay mysical, unreal, unknown. like the true nature of life. understanding doesn’t use words. it can’t.
i move, wisplike and thin, to where i am supposed to be now. it’s a strange and unfamiliar color, a light that doesnt shine but engulfs. im scared, but i know i’ll be okay.
it’s where i belong, after all.