as small as a world and as large as alone

5:14am November 7, 2012

There’s no way to say the things that flash through my mind while nobody’s around. I know there’s a kind of connection when that same thing flashes through someone’s mind too. I can’t tell you how I feel right now. Because words want to go away before everything else.

But there’s things they’ll never say. Things that are part of me, part of the world. I get scared when nothing makes sense. But even if nothing ever made sense again. I’d be okay as long as I had the few friends who can see straight through to the part of me that touches reality. Who don’t say I was away because that part of me never went anywhere.

But I still get confused and wonder what happened and whether I’m real and whether any of this fog has ever lifted. But I’m trying. And I know there’s at least four people who give a shit. So maybe that’s all that matters. There’s just pain I don’t know how to deal with or half the time where it comes from. But I know there’s people helping me. And that they matter more than the people frustrated I’m trying to relearn the world instead of writing what they think I should write about.

Just sometimes I curl up in a ball and drift off and try to make sense of the world with a brain that can’t keep up. And then I wonder if anything will ever make sense again. And alone at night there’s nobody to make it make sense. And if its dark there’s nothing. And there’s some kind of pain running through it that’s different. And there’s no time at all. It doesn’t end. And maybe somewhere it won’t be like this mental free fall anymore. These things aren’t metaphors they’re the best I’ve got for real.