2:02 PM Sunday, November 20, 2011
I noticed something yesterday, about my reaction to the date. Seeing today’s date provokes a bullet-point of fear, or shock. I am not certain how to describe it, but on some electronic device yesterday I saw the date — 11/19/11 — and it surprised me. It prompted a millisecond of soul-searching. An evaluation of my life and accomplishments.
I promptly moved on to other distractions. Each new day is a milestone. It can never be repeated, and its arrival could be heralded as a miracle. But I see the day’s date and feel surprised, amazed, frightened by the continuous massing of time, that mercurial substance which vanishes as it accumulates.
I’ve discovered things about my body, and my habits. I have for some reason began pouring shampoo onto my head in a way that causes it to pour down onto my face, coming close to entering my eyes. This never used to happen, or else it happened rarely. Is the shape of my head changing? Are my senses of balance and symmetry tilting askew?
Another tic I’ve noticed is how I itch most frequently in exact same spots. One is under my left eye, the other is the left side of my back. I don’t know what itches mean. I never thought of them as having a home, or reserving space on my body. I thought itches just appeared willy-nilly, at random places. And I think they do, but the solar system of my itches seems to revolve around 2 static locations, with the others making nova-like appearances.
1:31 AM Monday, November 21, 2011
Same day, next day. Oblivious to the round-robin of time.
2:04 AM Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The gin glass rattles as I type this. I have thoughts about BQ, the sometimes woman in my life now. Some thoughts lustful, some manipulated. Are we or are we not together? We are, I think, but she has always interjected comments to suggest that she has never had a serious boyfriend, and she does it still. I feel like I can fall in love with her, but as I indulge in falling in love with her she becomes more distant. The cocksucking used to be so righteous, a common hunger mutually fed. But now that I like her more than she likes me (?) the sexual dynamic changes, and kissing is the best I can ask for?
I love the conversations, though. I loved browsing through her old pictures tonight, and I would love to do it again. I made like I would leave her place, and leave her alone, but she made me stay. I took off my jacket. These are the clues I look for. She is not obvious, not obvious to me.
I just don’t like to make her nervous, or superior.