I can't think straight. I can't think crooked. I can't think in any lines at all.
Yet I still think.
My thoughts regulate themselves into regimented nonsense, dancing around the blurred lines of regularity I dedicatedly recreate upon waking. Once, long ago, I used to smile as my thoughts filled my mind in clouded confusion. Oh how I loved this slow calm descent into sleep. All alone, I would ride my silent boat down into the depths of darkness, as the mist clung to my skin I would close my eyes and allow the rhythm of the water to take me. Take me anywhere. Take as long as you wish. Just take me somewhere, please.
My silent boat has grown old and creaky, its floor uneven and its path treacherous. No longer do I feel safe in the silence. I feel its threat.
The calm is so stilling, so empty. I feel its threat. I feel the waiting. I see it clear as day, hidden in the confusion of night.
One day it will pounce.
I don't know what happens after that. I cannot know untill it comes. I can only know that it will.
Perhaps it will drag me under, down into the depths of the crystal clear water. Untill the liquid around me turns inky blue and I lose my sense of direction. Perhaps that will be my salvation. Lost in the depths of a milky ocean, the stars and the moon and the creatures of the night echoed around me. Perhaps then I will sleep. Sleep in the comfort of the silk against my skin and the knowledge that I cannot be found. Or perhaps the empty body of endless water will not drown me, but keep me awake. Surround by nothing but the thick sludge of the ocean. It is emptier than it was on the boat. The threat is still there. It has not taken me, but only made me more vunerable. Except on the boat, I was allways watching. I was unable to defend myself but I could face the threat face on - I could allways see the danger ahead of me. Down in these murky depths I cannot fathom my own hands, cannot see the space infront of me. I am surrounded by hungry teeth and vicious claws and they are hidden in plain sight - my thoughts have smothered me in veils so that I cannot tell anything from anything. It is all the same.
Everything is the same.
Everyday is the same.
Every minute
The same thing repeated in a complex, a polymer of numb pain. I am so unsettled. So fustrated and agitated. I want to run and laugh and sing and jump and scream.
But I am just so tired.
Maybe I'll lie down for a minute and never get up.