Jul. 15th, 2010

kellista: (Default)
this kind of thing should be rare and reluctant, only pursued under unbearable duress, and eventually put to shame by its cyclical disclosure of frailty. therefore preserve silent integrity; maintain the mundane respect of friends and neighbors, keep gorgeously arrayed, boned and stayed. one thing among many. be sure to remain just one person, keys in the doors, lest invisible, insidious guests come in and out at will. face facts, people, it is easy to know us better than we know ourselves. we all must choose our precautions. when you put out your hand to touch me, for example, you are already reaching toward an emptying space, the last blood and ink puddle of a drying basin, lapping, unsatisfied, against the want of you.
kellista: (Default)
Expansive, empty nothingness. within, without. I don't know how we'll get there without the path we pace in the hall wearing through, imploding us all.

A clapper in her watch quietly dinged her away from

from what she could see in freedom -

picking the one to enthrall you

like food and shiny things

our imaginations ticking away, every hour on the hour
-

-

The crew watch us in barely concealed horror for they have seen the damage we can do. But, admitting defeat? What a terrible spectre this is. How afraid of it I am! I remember my dreams I awake bewildered, terrified. I can't help (can't help) wondering if one day you'll wake up, older, throw your head back and say, 'i should have'. Then again, you owe it to yourself to live your life just the way you want. It is a Deep Truth. You will feel better. Then again. I am astounded at the things I have no record of. I just can't help. Where do you begin again? Jupiter, the end of my nose?
kellista: (Default)
I think there's a word for this! Also, but unrelatedly, I would swear that the world is getting colder. What does this say about me, a concatenation all the way up of tendencies and experiences, to be so convinced but wrong?
kellista: (Default)
You know, I can conjure it vividly this very moment, in my mind's eye ear nose lips throat, I mean. The ship was quite tiny. When the gravity waned I needed something to sit on my chest. When I think of it now it is true that the rats fled long ago. And my stars, the invective was brilliant at times.
kellista: (Default)
Depressed people tend to think of ourselves as being really self-aware or even sensitive, that we know the realities of our psyches better than most people. This is especially true if for the person (and I'm truly sorry if it is for you) goes through depression again and again or at some sort of level for a long time. We have our whiny, haunted selves sussed, we think. Lately I've been finally realizing this is another amongst a whole viscous slew of cognitive distortions that either constitute or play a major role in whatever the fuck this condition is in the first place if it is in fact anything at all. I think what we really get to know so very well is depression itself. And I swear to all that is profound, this is no black dog. This is a stealth pack of roboninja shewolf mama dogs developed by the biggest and most authoritarian military for use against the home-grown. They suck the light from their surroundings. They leave you a drawn shell with a crude deathmask face. They render you the wispiest hint of a ghost looking down at the somehow-occurring actions of your mouth and body, disappointing and uninterruptable. Except worse. They turn love into disgust.

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kellista

April 2011

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