Hunger

Experiment

What it feels like to be manic:

I’ve got the Wailin Jennys in my head, coming in thorough these head head head head head head head head head head phones. and I dont’ know what they want from me but i’m more than wiilling to give them to it and it to them.  The re is a “wrong” note in one of their songs and I want to quash it like a daisy.  Quish quash flush the pot down the toilet and live alone in a paradise.  This is dangerous.  I can deal with soul-crushing nihilism.  My soul is strong and steeled against compression but it is unused to expansion.  Is this a commercial?  Wat.  I want this to be pretty like I want all my writing to be pretty but this feels more sinister than my worst days.  Where is this energy coming from?  Instead of a cave with the beginningless echo of water into water somewhere you can’t find that’s driving you crazy it’s like drowning under a waterfall you didn’t know was right above you.  There’s no time to find out what it is, where it came from or how to stop it. All there is energy for is to not die, to breathe.  This is like a fight to the death with a Lisa Frank tiger who is all grown up and very, very angry.

So the Weepies come on and I am reminded that I am very distractible.  I do not think that rain is an inherently bad or good thing, it’s just a thing.  I think this.  I am thinking this right now, as well as several other thoughts.  One of the most physically attractive things on a female body is the shape of the smile.  It’s certainly one of the first things I notice.

I certainly was hoping that this would be a better catalyst for the creation of something new, for some sort of  shut up shut up.  They’re not other voices, they’re MY voices, over and over again (a gain) to hate my brain, hate my heart.  I’m misspelling a lot of these words, but I only care sometimes.  It wouldn’t be right to say what they say.  They don’t “say” anything anyway so I couldn’t put it into words without something being lost in the translation.  This is hard to describe.  There are words…

Bottom line:  I’m scared, uncomfortable, on the brink of tears and ready to run naked through downtown Austin laughing as loud and hysterically as I ever have, laughter on the verge of the scream of the absolutely batshit crazy.  I’m fine.

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This entry was published on October 17, 2012 at 21:29 and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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