Monday, February 10, 2020

Frozen to death of her

I miss the feeling the everything might burn to the ground suddenly, at night. It was exhilarating, freeing, the unexpected thought of it. I'm not sure what I need to be freed from but wildfire is the fix. Maybe I'm a pyromaniac, or an arsonist. Or, I have gained weight and have few ways to express my frustration at the accretion of soft adipose tissue. Or, it is because my knees hurt. Tomorrow I will feel differently. I just struggled spelling tomorrow and a sip of my tea burned my lips. I have a headache. Everything seems to be falling apart. Not in the carefree, humorous, and reckless ways of youth, but without desire or consent or even much laughter. I need a break, but then I won't take one. It is all an insanity, that people just work and work and work until they die. Me, I mean me. It is insane that is what I will likely do. Most all of the other possibilities are somehow more horrible, yet the fear is endured. I am paralyzed by it. As a child I used to have a recurring nightmare. I would freeze and I knew that wherever I was turned next by the force of the mind's imagination the witch would be walking towards me, smiling her malevolence and curses. It was terrifying. I recognize the look in the eyes of the cruel, that it can be confused by some as being a version of comedy. It would end with me awakening, screaming. Her face comes back to me even now, all these years later. The awfulness of her roaming inside of me drove me wild with terror and panic when I was a child. She was a property of my mind, come to drive me mad. Even now, I am afraid that speaking of her, thinking of her, will awaken her where she may find me, sleeping again.