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.
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