Saturday, April 18, 2015

Falling, crashing.

Having exhausted all my compensatory mechanisms, all I'm left with is the need for indifference, again.
I have always counted on my spectrum of alter ego to show up and take over me during emergencies and on my book of backup masks to choose colors. I've counted on the rain to stomp, stomp, stomp on the pebbles that try to reflect me. And it would always take a while before I'd be me again, but I'd always be me, eventually.
But today I look inside and my alter ego is out of ego, my masks are short of backup reactions and the rain has just chopped off its hair. I find myself syncing with dust and pebbles, and denying the existence of skies. I find myself fading away into the spaces between the versions of me that once were; as if all I am is a side-effect of an underestimated experiment; and you could try a series of placebos and infuse tons of saline into me but I'd still be a dry little pebble.
How did I reduce myself to this?

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