The trouble is that writers always think the answer to everything is in the words. It’s been a whole day and I have produced nothing at all. Not a single word worth saving or repeating. My head is creaky and my mind is entirely exhausted.
I gaze out the window into the summer evening, tiny bits of dust linger suspended and then sift along on the sheer breeze. For some reason the light does not bother me today. It is soft and kind where usually it makes me cringe a little bit. The deep green leaves on my many potted plants are turning toward the sloping sun.
Pouring my wine and swallowing it down like rain water in a dying place, I think about the calmness we each exhibit as the world around us rages and burns. Humans possess an uncanny ability, it’s terribly eerie really, to deny themselves to themselves. We monetize it, strategize it, optimize it. You flick through some social media bullshit. Advertisements. Boats for men and bodies for women. Flashes of a kind of alternate life which doesn’t exist except for in your head. Your head like a screen. Your limp limbs like poetic tragedy. Movies and distractions, sex toys and ‘self care’ as if we knew the self or remembered how to care. Glossy lips the size of grapefruits.
All the while underneath, you can feel the darkness sliding in your veins. Everything is on the brink. Life in all of its various junked-up forms, huddled on the edge of collapse. They say sleep disorders are on the rise. I read about the garden variety traumas. I read about the interworkings of the modern mind. We are research. We are blue clinical and we are aquamarine sterilization. Dressed and pressed and injected against the latest disease.
Another glass of wine and dinner facing the back yard alone. Chain link fenced in quiet dramatization. The trouble about the body is it will betray you when you least expect it. You were supposed to remain cool. You were supposed to extend your gratitude. You were supposed to stay patient and you were supposed to hurry up. But it’s all spinning so far away from you now.
Swallow your food, swallow it all the way down. Kill the bottle and swirl your dumb panic around and around. Gaze across the distance until another day turns from pale to crimson. Do what they tell you not to do but do it in secret. Just don’t let them see the way the invisible crush takes you out.