mania. 11.1.17
How can I be so dumb and smart at the same time?
The reactions are the rolling of the eyes, the generalized disgusted wariness. The signs of disbelief mixed with perceived egoic exaggeration.
But that doesn’t change the imprint of
there’s something wrong here.
And there is. and there was.
How can I recite four different languages and within the same hour, run straight into walls. Bruises blushing across my legs.
My sleep deprivation so bad that I can't even bathe myself without falling and cracking my head open.
Can I be alone?
The hands that were so agile. The ones that guided my pencil to the page, the ones that helped me create the art that I used to show the innermost darknesses that I had always kept hidden away.
My body. The one that danced for years.
That guided me gracefully across that stage. So strong and capable.
And now, I have to have someone guide me into the bathtub and wash me while I sob.
Ashamed at my apparent physical weakness.
My entire life.
I have been in constant decay and revitilization.
Not the subtle decay of the body aging, but the state of my mind. Pacing, erasing, easing, and startling myself back into unknown states of reality.
What is real?
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