gaps.

the

even

gone,

This hurts too much but I can't stop

There are so many images and I feel them all leak from me with each second something remaining like a track in the fall?

A ferry trip. The violets in her lap. The cold in the air. A coach's murky window. Statues. Sunlight.

Storm still

Wer jetzt kein hat, baut sich keines mehr.

Redwood

[be]li[e]ve ["Only the interviews inform these events. They alone show us how the moments bruise and bleed."]

"Oh, we live comfortably because we create these sacred domains in our head where we believe we have a specific history,  a certain set of experiences. We believe that our memories keep us in direct touch with what has happened. But memory never puts us in touch with anything directly; it's always interpretive, reductive, a complicated compression of information."

float

Sometimes the tide pulls me away for days.
Far, far out to the horizon

opposite the sun. The sea always spits me out
eventually. In the space of a month,

a week, a few nights, by the span of a
lifetime,

I resurface, hurl water from my lungs
my gut, my bones.

The taste of salt
and the most silent ocean bed

lingers for days.

“There is not space in the universe
to tell the universe to the universe.
Therein lies the peculiar beauty
and the sadness of stories:
to tell it all without all at all.”

"By now I am far beyond copying only what comes after the patient’s saying: ‘I have this dream, doctor.’ I am at the point of recreating dreams that are not even written down at all. Dreams that shadow themselves forth in the vaguest way, but are themselves hid, like a statue under red velvet before the grand unveiling."

any question directed at another becomes something directed at the self and I'm starting to shake here, too much of me in the air of this room

Strange how happy I was just then. I hadn't left the apartment for days. Or something like that.

I need to go out today. And here I am writing this. The light's etched a permanent grimace on me, bleeding through the curtains. I have a prescription to pick up.

There's a little irony. Going out to get a pill so that you can go out in the first place. I want to throw up. I want to cry. I haven't done either for years.

Time to kick out this seat from beneath me and force myself to leave.