And other things
I feel exhaustion. Weariness. I remember coach K responding to my question about fear of my father. “How do you know?” He asked me.
How, indeed. I wish that I didn’t know. I wish for the knowledge to leave me. I feel so weary of it. I feel a heavy weight. I wish for someone else to know. I wish for someone else to judge. I don’t want to anymore.
I wish for clarity. I wish that someone would ask me my experience and then provide me with their judgement. I feel so crippled by the weight of it, being alone. Being the one to weigh both sides, to look at things from his perspective, his side, take account of his story. It’s too much. Ive lost my own story. I can’t feely own feelings under all the weight of carrying everyone’s side. Where is my side? And why must I abandon it for theirs? Or even the middle?
I feel weary and heaviness that I only ever receive judgement from myself. I feel anxious and unsupported; no one watching my back. No one letting me know when I stray. I feel tense and self conscious. And ironically, as if nothing can reach me anyways. Behind a shell of unconsciousness; nothing can penetrate. I remain until dragged out with violent force. Then, beaten and humiliated, I crawl right back in.
Everything is contradiction. What was in the light and dark exchange their places. They dance in a spiral. Ever ascending, or descending. That is the only choice; which side of the spiral I choose to partake of. Ascend or descend. The experience is the same. The orientation is the only difference.
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