ArtLit, Blog

basket of angry and mute kittens

silence speaks nothing --

To be consumed by words until they come stumbling out, 
arranged and resonant, 
unwilling to bow to the closure of strict lips. What is that? Where is it-- 
I've written copies, and rallies, and letters YET none of the words 
that reside in me have my heart, and I'm---

Scared. SCARED SCARED SCARED 

I've never known fear like 
the fear that I have of the words inside me. I don't know what they look like. 
Amorphous, greedy, vicious things
I fear that if I write, if I speak, if in another sentence I play out a new stanza, 
If I dare
I fear the truth will come out. WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE HONEST good lord

I fear the truth of --loneliness?-- frustration, listlessness. A cacophony of longing 
that has no name and no purpose; I can feel everything raging under my skin 
like a quiet storm, a knot in a maze in a forest
woosh woosh woosh 
Outside the wild listlessness 
fades into a practiced nonchalance. Words can't unravel if the words 
are too honest, and all my letters are honest. I keep them in.

Through a mirror: I am indifferent, and silent, and sleepy. whispers

I fear that the who that I built outside will be consumed by the monsters 
that are growing in the peripheries! 
shades drawn, battle lines marked 
fighting myself by burning the war
suffocate drown and asphyxiate my self

Another lie, another half-truth. statement
I fear what I have in me; I fear that there is nothing in me at all. 

What if I can't write or paint or speak because there are 
no monsters in the deep?
No colors in the wind, no female mysteries, no hysteric soliloquies 
A new model! An automaton of motions, everything but nothing at the same time
Outrageous for the price of fun:
PRESS 1 FOR BREATHING
PRESS 2 FOR LUCK
PRESS 3 FOR LOVE
number not available!!!

Motions upon motions
Unfeigned confusion
"           "
relaxation, elevation, escalation
#anxietynation

In what scenario will I start to write the entries that define my meaning:
Denial death dusk depressed
Denied denied DENIED REJECTED
by myself

Shut up! Stop! Speaking! BE SILENT be silent be silent be silent 
until the silence starts screaming
without me

 

This isn’t a cry for help. It’s a………………n exercise in trying to write again OTL. And I wrote this earlier while eating in Market Basket! Good shrimp and good salmon!

In other news, my sister’s in Korea (and I gave her a cool list of things to buy for me). I’m still here, not studying for my GIN exam on Tuesday. :o

I want to write about so many other things: how much I’m following Miss Universe, how I loved our graded physical examination earlier this week, how I’ve got secrets piled upon secrets. Some other time.

xxx

 

Blog, Essays

UNIT JARI

UNIT JARI | An exercise in existential theory and practical applications to model analysis

20150915_103012-01

The model is me. And I am reporting a malfunction caused by excessive smiling.

Moral Support: Jeca J. 

I. Introduction

It’s entirely possible that I stopped maturing emotionally after a certain point in my childhood. Honestly, how do people live? Some time ago I lived through a week where I felt maybe four emotions at peak –Sadness, Anger, Disgust, Joy (and yes, I am now identifying my emotions using Inside Out constructs)– and it was a disaster. I’m pretty sure it caused me to be physically sick; it was that stressful.

I’m not built to carry complex emotions.

In times of peace I would be commanded largely by the most subdued and superficial of emotions: indifference, academic and platonic enthusiasm, abstract appreciation for people and life. I have never felt particularly worldly and attached in the way I know some people are. I wonder at the relationships more functional people build around themselves. I wonder why I had to write this piece to figure things out.

I wonder why I’m publishing this. Perhaps I’m still hungover from life.  Continue reading “UNIT JARI”