aSoSS 29 | Terror

I get stressed out when people don’t take in the environment around them.

AADL Downtown, 10AM, 8/31/2024

absorbed should have a much more negative connotation than it carries. you are so full that there is nothing left of you. no more capacity to love, to help, to notice. you successfully create an alternate reality that only you can see: everything cut off, no inputs from above, the plane has lost its radar. to pop the fantasy like a balloon feels like slicing into flesh, attention spreading rapidly from the cut. your eyes finally look up–and then, like an infection, the condition switches to me…

I can handle suspense, I can handle horror, but I can’t handle blood… that’s why I hate the Saw movies.

Salvation Army, 5:00PM, 10/14/2024

you are counting the age of a dead child. she lies immobile, chest heaving in the wind. a good pretender, i’ll admit. perished from inside, limbs left to rot. there are flowers where her fingers used to be. i grab a bone and snap it, relishing the crunch, the final release of form. to grow for decades and disappear in one pinch–energy stored is energy gained, nothing is permanent except for a loss of permanence. from the middle of the stump, a seedling reaches for the sunlight. even in death, life always finds a way.

Dementia’s kinda kicking in, huh? But yeah, she’s in good spirits…

AADL Downtown, 4:30PM, 10/29/2024

look at the lips, how they twitch. the eyes, how they lead. beneath the scalp, an occupation–quick to burn, quicker to bleed. having no anchor will leave you stranded even in the harbor. the tide swells and the eddy swirls and you spin, around and around, forgetting which way is forward. we are privy to the comforts of a world unchanged, a diorama, a beetle encased in resin. up in the brain: more spirits, more childhood bedrooms, more confusion, more spinning. the mind’s eye, shattered into a thousand infinities, each one smaller than a drop of water.