my therapist has asked me to keep a more accurate daily journal. she suggested a food log but that doesn’t work for me. i do actually eat what my body needs, it’s more about choking but I decide to do what she asks.
I begin to feel some remorse for my actions but also deeply puzzled by how that could be. i also have ignored some more disturbing thoughts and visions of me leaping to my death and me smiling covered in oil but walking out as if it was just a splash of water. It feels like I have just touched something spongy and it has spit something out. It’s damp and breathing like a black coral or something deeper and it’s porous.
I never celebrate I just see it. there is an overturned rat under the bridge off third street and my friend says it’s been there for days.
I have begun memorizing the street signs again and which direction I am walking. I begin today with mendacious. I mean for memorizing words. this is why i don’t keep journals to keep track of circular thoughts. it’s sort of a spiraling of information . this is how cerebrals may dance through life, fascinated by both synthesis in electricity, musical ensembles, cadence, an unrehearsed togetherness in packs that travel and how they hunt, the jaws of an alligator. I mean the sheer strength of an alligator.
I have not booked my ticket to my grandmother’s house because an alligator lives on her property. I’m in awe of this dinosaur and am far too young at heart to ignore it. I am scared of my clumsiness but I want to see it hiss and back up jaws open and I think,
I will go to Mallorca but I will not tempt a shark.
My therapist wants me to keep an honest daily journal, a toll of things and this is it:
- not telling the truth; lying.
I’m in bed by ten now and it feels familiar; waking up at dawn to clean the house. I suddenly feel the urge to organize my spices, my basement, wanting everything labeled. I have hoards of things and drawers become full of batteries, rubber bands, paper clips and safety pins, closets full of blankets, sufficiency in motion, but first i give up and re-take up caffeine. Also, almost choking to death but actively repressing it. I sort of skulk down the street hidden by a hat and scarf and sunglasses. My spine pulsating with distant light, or today mushrooms and marijuana, to re-experience the way sun felt the first time I managed to look up and revel. I’m surrounded by birds and their noises. After asking an Amazon Prime shopper if they were in line for the bathroom, I turned to the mirror, the camera, and pocketed the banana I was holding. I stretched my legs and checked my phone.
I start the morning eating three tiny mushrooms and packing a very small bowl of marijuana after testing the strength of the shrooms on my walk to get coffee. Also drinking water, blowing my nose, taking care of the cats.
I love pushing the line of absurd and mendacious to seeing suddenly the line beneath my feet as a practiced reality. I am lucid but also sidestepping the edges of trees underneath the concrete but somewhere else, not here. I have no music in my head. There is nothing in my hand. The staff member holds the bathroom door for me. I leave without paying for the banana and satisfied at how well I operate in crowds. Prouder now of the ability to document it as factual as possible. I prepare my stories to my therapist leaving room for sudden emotional burst. But mostly I am cerebral learning how to pronounce things perfectly.
“I do everything at once, “ I say.
Because I have done drugs my wrists are covered with tiny black hearts.
‘I can keep track of every hour, if I mark it. Then I can look back. “
I’ve only eaten bananas today. I am covered in Raven anointing oil, a gift from a friend. It is rare I follow rules or directions or advice but I heard my cats ask for mice and they are both sitting peacefully.. I begin eating an avocado and I prepare my throat for the dal I made. i don’t do well under pressure or with too much time so I jump off a bridge one day hoping to land perfectly in the center of a patch of ice and wishing. I was actively wishing as I fell that perhaps I would make it out alive.
this is a more honest look.
i begin to draw the queen of cups in the corner in blue marker and i also decide to actively burn any bridge left between us.