in my mind i am a giant
i haven’t got the capacity to imagine myself any other way
no one can touch me and nothing will defeat me
in this world i am everything
i am the air that swims around me
rushing and gurgling
i am the heat that gushes in from the holes i have made in the sky
there is no one out there and yet the noise is deafening
tragedy has thrown it’s gaze around the room and there is no one to stop it
the walls have begun to decay
small chunks are hanging from the threads in the paper
crumbling beings hanging themselves with a floral rope
the lights have flickered and died
but the flames are sufficient
the sparks trip and fly away from the centre
escaping the chaos of the blaze in a panic
i will not be afraid
there is nothing here but me
in my mind i am nowhere
but the walls are closing in
the floor has become a grating gash
a cavernous gorge that will swallow me into its depths if i do not lift
i scrabble across the crags and into my sanctuary
my safe place
where i am a giant
there is no other way
in my mind i am suffocating
my lungs fill with sulphur and the world is blue
the darkness carries me away and in the night i am a giant
bigger than the earth and stronger than the wind
i can carry life on my back
crush it with my swipe or savour it in my arms
nothing will ever change, for
I am here, I am here, I am here.
Wednesday 24 February 2010
Saturday 20 February 2010
Fertility
He knew what was coming; pretty much. He was ready for it. The café was alive around them: the shouts of the kitchen staff and the chatter of the customers were the cheerful everyday sounds of life. The café was buzzing; suits came and went with Styrofoam cups of strong black coffee, mobile phones bleeped, students chatted, took their time. A child screamed from a slap on the arm. None of this could drown out the words waiting to come out of Sally’s mouth.
“I’m pregnant, Dan.”
She said nothing more. No explanation, no excuses, no questions. She just sat there, on the red plastic chair; sat there staring at him.
Dan had been careful every time, he was sure of it. But all those ‘how could that be’ questions were not forming in his head. What was the point? He could fight it or take the punch.
He stared at her, willing a look of surprise onto his vacant face. His eyebrows should raise, his mouth should form an O; he tried, but in the end all he felt was immense tiredness. His eyelids, instead of being wide and surprised, began to droop. Her face became a blur and his mind thought, if I don’t say something soon I’m going to just fall asleep, right here on this table.
“How long?” He shook his head, kick starting his brain back to life.
“How long have I known? Just yesterday. Dan, I told you as soon as I could. Have you been to bed at all in the last four days?”
She was not frustrated, she was concerned. Perhaps she’ll make a good mother after all.
“What are we going to do?” She sounded as if she was talking about a trip to visit her parents, not a…a what? A baby, a life? Neither of these terms sounded right. They didn’t fit; that wasn’t the situation at all.
Dan was glued to the seat. He had a few choices open to him: run away and never look back, say something - anything would do - or break down crying in a nervous wreck. He did not feel like he could do any of these things, his mind was empty and wanted to sleep. He could feel the dreams through a satin cloth of wakefulness; this is the wrong way round, I feel like I’m waking up into a sleep. This is not right.
He was becoming less aware of the café noise around him, drifting into a thick, soupy haze that was smothering him softly. The edges began to blur, he was looking through water and it was as warm as…the womb.
“Shitting hell!” Dan’s body convulsed and the world came back into focus. No, no, no. From cushioned tissue he was back to razor sharp edges in a flash. He was a fly zipping around the café, picking up minute images of the food, the lights; sounds came to him in surround and he was everywhere all at once.
A thud brought him back to the table, back to his body. In his panic he had knocked over the chair his arm had been leaning on and people were beginning to stare.
A plate smashed in the kitchen and Turkish curses distracted his unwanted audience. Dan looked around; his vision was returning to normal, the hum leaving his brain. Did I just have an out of body experience?
He felt exhausted, but not in the same way as before: normal adult exhaustion, like after a big shock.
“You alright? It’s quite a shock I know, but we can work it out. I haven’t even thought about the options yet. Do you need some time to think about it?” Sally reached out across the table, placing her hand palm up, an offering.
Dan was tired, but his mind was clear. He knew that he could finally take action.
“Sal, I’m sorry…”
He threw his own chair over as he stumbled around the tables and out the door. He caught his breath and ran as fast as he could, without looking back, away from there.
“I’m pregnant, Dan.”
She said nothing more. No explanation, no excuses, no questions. She just sat there, on the red plastic chair; sat there staring at him.
Dan had been careful every time, he was sure of it. But all those ‘how could that be’ questions were not forming in his head. What was the point? He could fight it or take the punch.
He stared at her, willing a look of surprise onto his vacant face. His eyebrows should raise, his mouth should form an O; he tried, but in the end all he felt was immense tiredness. His eyelids, instead of being wide and surprised, began to droop. Her face became a blur and his mind thought, if I don’t say something soon I’m going to just fall asleep, right here on this table.
“How long?” He shook his head, kick starting his brain back to life.
“How long have I known? Just yesterday. Dan, I told you as soon as I could. Have you been to bed at all in the last four days?”
She was not frustrated, she was concerned. Perhaps she’ll make a good mother after all.
“What are we going to do?” She sounded as if she was talking about a trip to visit her parents, not a…a what? A baby, a life? Neither of these terms sounded right. They didn’t fit; that wasn’t the situation at all.
Dan was glued to the seat. He had a few choices open to him: run away and never look back, say something - anything would do - or break down crying in a nervous wreck. He did not feel like he could do any of these things, his mind was empty and wanted to sleep. He could feel the dreams through a satin cloth of wakefulness; this is the wrong way round, I feel like I’m waking up into a sleep. This is not right.
He was becoming less aware of the café noise around him, drifting into a thick, soupy haze that was smothering him softly. The edges began to blur, he was looking through water and it was as warm as…the womb.
“Shitting hell!” Dan’s body convulsed and the world came back into focus. No, no, no. From cushioned tissue he was back to razor sharp edges in a flash. He was a fly zipping around the café, picking up minute images of the food, the lights; sounds came to him in surround and he was everywhere all at once.
A thud brought him back to the table, back to his body. In his panic he had knocked over the chair his arm had been leaning on and people were beginning to stare.
A plate smashed in the kitchen and Turkish curses distracted his unwanted audience. Dan looked around; his vision was returning to normal, the hum leaving his brain. Did I just have an out of body experience?
He felt exhausted, but not in the same way as before: normal adult exhaustion, like after a big shock.
“You alright? It’s quite a shock I know, but we can work it out. I haven’t even thought about the options yet. Do you need some time to think about it?” Sally reached out across the table, placing her hand palm up, an offering.
Dan was tired, but his mind was clear. He knew that he could finally take action.
“Sal, I’m sorry…”
He threw his own chair over as he stumbled around the tables and out the door. He caught his breath and ran as fast as he could, without looking back, away from there.
Friday 19 February 2010
Unpopular
There was a time I was somebody; now I have no substance.
People look through me as if I am made of air. Sometimes they wonder what has brushed their arm, or they shiver as if a tingle ran up their spine. They don’t notice the spectral figure that wanders the borderlands, searching for a mate.
I imagine myself lifeless, somewhere in the distance, sitting just beyond reality, out of reach of all but the spirits. A mist hangs over me, thick and lifeless. My movements are dull and stiff, slow like running underwater.
I haven’t been seen for days, but if you look closely I am always there, standing in the shadows, hanging onto the edges of things, standing with my back against the wall.
Some said there would be nothing; some said it would come in a blinding flash of light. They didn’t describe the shackles as tight as an air lock that tether me to the earth.
My feet fall heavy and my mind is lead. There is nothing to think of, nothing to share, only the bleak mist of confusion, hankering for solidity; between life and death.
People look through me as if I am made of air. Sometimes they wonder what has brushed their arm, or they shiver as if a tingle ran up their spine. They don’t notice the spectral figure that wanders the borderlands, searching for a mate.
I imagine myself lifeless, somewhere in the distance, sitting just beyond reality, out of reach of all but the spirits. A mist hangs over me, thick and lifeless. My movements are dull and stiff, slow like running underwater.
I haven’t been seen for days, but if you look closely I am always there, standing in the shadows, hanging onto the edges of things, standing with my back against the wall.
Some said there would be nothing; some said it would come in a blinding flash of light. They didn’t describe the shackles as tight as an air lock that tether me to the earth.
My feet fall heavy and my mind is lead. There is nothing to think of, nothing to share, only the bleak mist of confusion, hankering for solidity; between life and death.
Thursday 18 February 2010
Living in my Mind
I'm scared. In fact, I'm terrified.
I have checked all the facts; nothing odd or strange. It all fits. But it shouldn't fit. When it comes to instability, nothing should fit this perfectly, that's the nature of the thing. Surely.
It does though. I've spent a while with it in the back of my head, wondering, guessing. Until I say it outloud it won't be real. But the feelings are real; I can't deny it to myself. Not really.
I'm still scared.
More scared than a broken leg, or a bad case of liver damage. Im not sure if I'll ever repair, I don't know if it can heal itself.
Nothing has to change, I suppose. Life will be the same as it was before, perhaps even better. At least now I know what I'm dealing with. Still don't know what to do about it, but I guess I can stop feeling guilty. Not a chance. That really is the nature of the thing. Guilty is what I do.
I think at least now I can understand a bit more. Understand the way some people treat me when they figure it out. They saw it all before I did, no doubt about that; but it's not unusual. Some people never believe it of themselves. It feels almost like a relief. I don't have to be a failure, just messed up. I don't have anyone to blame, but at least I don't have to blame myself. I can do something about it without having to begrudge the sacrifice I make. Now it's a sacrifice I have to make, before it was just a punishment. It won't get better, but I can stop paying pennance.
I don't have to scared anymore, I feel like I can start to understand. If I can control it then I don't have to worry again. The weight hasn't been lifted, not yet, but I can feel it easing every minute. Just like the lithium I'm afraid of what I'm leaving behind, but I'm looking forward to the future of no fear. I can stop feeling responsible for my own misery, even reject those feelings that turn people away. Maybe I can even get better.
But now that I know the reasoning, what if it gets worse? When I think about the potential that has been there all along I wonder how I have managed to stay this safe. I know what it can lead to and what it can do, I think about it and I can't breathe. My heart is racing and I'm picturing the scene. I don't want to describe it, the grabbing, pulling, punching, slashing violence of it all. Now I'm terrified again.
I can control it, if I understand it. Not in a power hungry, I must be the best way. Perhaps I don't mean to control it. I think I mean I hope I can live in harmony together with it; so that it won't take over, won't run me out of control. That I can accept it and carry myself through the hard times and into the good without hurting anyone at all. I hope I can carry it with pride and use the bad times to understand it more, learn what it can give me and take the good sides out of it. Maybe one day it will leave me alone and I will be in peace, but I don't remember a time when I was; don't know what there is to miss out on.
I am proud of my mind, even though I don't understand it. We will travel together, it and me, to make whole what has always been lacking and to carry what has always been dragged.
I have checked all the facts; nothing odd or strange. It all fits. But it shouldn't fit. When it comes to instability, nothing should fit this perfectly, that's the nature of the thing. Surely.
It does though. I've spent a while with it in the back of my head, wondering, guessing. Until I say it outloud it won't be real. But the feelings are real; I can't deny it to myself. Not really.
I'm still scared.
More scared than a broken leg, or a bad case of liver damage. Im not sure if I'll ever repair, I don't know if it can heal itself.
Nothing has to change, I suppose. Life will be the same as it was before, perhaps even better. At least now I know what I'm dealing with. Still don't know what to do about it, but I guess I can stop feeling guilty. Not a chance. That really is the nature of the thing. Guilty is what I do.
I think at least now I can understand a bit more. Understand the way some people treat me when they figure it out. They saw it all before I did, no doubt about that; but it's not unusual. Some people never believe it of themselves. It feels almost like a relief. I don't have to be a failure, just messed up. I don't have anyone to blame, but at least I don't have to blame myself. I can do something about it without having to begrudge the sacrifice I make. Now it's a sacrifice I have to make, before it was just a punishment. It won't get better, but I can stop paying pennance.
I don't have to scared anymore, I feel like I can start to understand. If I can control it then I don't have to worry again. The weight hasn't been lifted, not yet, but I can feel it easing every minute. Just like the lithium I'm afraid of what I'm leaving behind, but I'm looking forward to the future of no fear. I can stop feeling responsible for my own misery, even reject those feelings that turn people away. Maybe I can even get better.
But now that I know the reasoning, what if it gets worse? When I think about the potential that has been there all along I wonder how I have managed to stay this safe. I know what it can lead to and what it can do, I think about it and I can't breathe. My heart is racing and I'm picturing the scene. I don't want to describe it, the grabbing, pulling, punching, slashing violence of it all. Now I'm terrified again.
I can control it, if I understand it. Not in a power hungry, I must be the best way. Perhaps I don't mean to control it. I think I mean I hope I can live in harmony together with it; so that it won't take over, won't run me out of control. That I can accept it and carry myself through the hard times and into the good without hurting anyone at all. I hope I can carry it with pride and use the bad times to understand it more, learn what it can give me and take the good sides out of it. Maybe one day it will leave me alone and I will be in peace, but I don't remember a time when I was; don't know what there is to miss out on.
I am proud of my mind, even though I don't understand it. We will travel together, it and me, to make whole what has always been lacking and to carry what has always been dragged.
Monday 8 February 2010
Nature's World
Back then there was little to worry about.
Life was simple. Easy.
Times changed slowly, like landscapes eroded over time.
Often nothing moved at all. There was just the landscape and me.
People often passed through, but they left no mark on the earth; there were no footprints in the sand.
I used to sit and wait for the tide to come in. Just a gentle rise in the water that no one noticed but me. It was as if the tide was teasing me, waiting for me to give up watch and go inside. I would catch it every time. I played games with nature and it smiled.
One way, I could see nothing but ocean, in the other, mountains and sky. To the west everything was ocean, or everything was sky, it made no difference. In the east, a violent landscape. A slap of tranquility that stung my face with its magnitude. The sleeping giants and the sighing mermaids.
Serenity.
-----------------------
Something happened to change it all. Now I can’t get it back and I don’t know if I’ll make it through.
The life has been sucked from this place, like marrow from the spine.
When it came, the death throws came in contractions and the tide would no longer play with me. I watched, helpless, as it slammed its fists into the rocks and screamed and cried. Disregard the natural order of things, it said, I am the almighty!
So it was.
Giants played chess on the rocks and mermaids became sirens in the night. Nature did not need me, it never had. It laughed in the face of human suffering and showed me over and over. The natural order of things.
Chaos.
---------------------
What do yo get when serenity and chaos are done? Resignation. The silence of resignation is as deafening as chaos, as thick and luxurious as serenity.
There is a finality to resignation that can last forever. There is no white flag, but it is surrender.
So like an exhausted child in the final stage of tantrum, the earth succumed to its own power. The ocean rested, but it was not a gentle rest. The mountains stilled, but they were not sleeping. With nowhere left to go and nothing more to fight, they muted their voices and wept silent tears.
Life will eventually end here and nothing will be left.
When nothing is left I will be empty. Even I will leave no footprints in the sand.
Life was simple. Easy.
Times changed slowly, like landscapes eroded over time.
Often nothing moved at all. There was just the landscape and me.
People often passed through, but they left no mark on the earth; there were no footprints in the sand.
I used to sit and wait for the tide to come in. Just a gentle rise in the water that no one noticed but me. It was as if the tide was teasing me, waiting for me to give up watch and go inside. I would catch it every time. I played games with nature and it smiled.
One way, I could see nothing but ocean, in the other, mountains and sky. To the west everything was ocean, or everything was sky, it made no difference. In the east, a violent landscape. A slap of tranquility that stung my face with its magnitude. The sleeping giants and the sighing mermaids.
Serenity.
-----------------------
Something happened to change it all. Now I can’t get it back and I don’t know if I’ll make it through.
The life has been sucked from this place, like marrow from the spine.
When it came, the death throws came in contractions and the tide would no longer play with me. I watched, helpless, as it slammed its fists into the rocks and screamed and cried. Disregard the natural order of things, it said, I am the almighty!
So it was.
Giants played chess on the rocks and mermaids became sirens in the night. Nature did not need me, it never had. It laughed in the face of human suffering and showed me over and over. The natural order of things.
Chaos.
---------------------
What do yo get when serenity and chaos are done? Resignation. The silence of resignation is as deafening as chaos, as thick and luxurious as serenity.
There is a finality to resignation that can last forever. There is no white flag, but it is surrender.
So like an exhausted child in the final stage of tantrum, the earth succumed to its own power. The ocean rested, but it was not a gentle rest. The mountains stilled, but they were not sleeping. With nowhere left to go and nothing more to fight, they muted their voices and wept silent tears.
Life will eventually end here and nothing will be left.
When nothing is left I will be empty. Even I will leave no footprints in the sand.
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