Saturday, December 5, 2015

Helplessness Blues.

Living life is kind of uncomfortable.

Just being inside your body, walking around, standing on your feet, sitting. Smelling bad smells that you can't get away from, scrunching up your face when something annoying happens.

Making yourself sit through boring things, having an anxiety attack and holding your breath, reading long paragraphs, talking to people who talk too loud, or stand too close to you, or say things that are a little bit racist without realizing.

Parking far away, stress dreams, pedestrians that walk slow in front of your car.

Most of all, wondering about everything and thinking all the time and asking questions that you don't know the answers to and never will.

Lately, I've had this wish I keep coming back to: I wish I could mash myself into a tiny corner somewhere, so that my body is smashed into some unsightly shape and all my organs and bones feel the pressure. Because that is what living life feels like, and having to walk around and stand on my feet and sit in a chair and stop for pedestrians as if life isn't excruciating is just unfair.

1 comment:

  1. If I had an orchard, I'd work til I'm raw.
    Sometimes I think the only cure for everything is to go live on a farm.