always dawnest before the dark
You know that little voice in your head when you wake up in the middle of the night? The one that is filled with apprehension and anxiety? That’s the one you are left with when your time is used up. You die alone with this voice.
Trapped behind your eyes.
Stuck between your ears.
To try make sense of it with your senses is senseless.
Words can be lies and your eyes can play tricks on you. Taste is a strictly a matter of taste and there is seldom anything touching about touching. Maybe a million years ago our noses knew but not anymore.
What are we to believe?
That we are alone inside our heads. Your feet hang off the end of you but they aren’t you. Some days they seem so far away. Cut ’em off and you’re still you.
A lonely voice in your head saying you were better off when you had feet.
Sometimes when people are talking to you are you screaming at the top of your lungs inside your head? All the while smiling a vague smile and pretending to care what words are tumbling out of their face? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA fuck you.
Reacting to stimuli like you’re watching a movie that you wouldn’t pay $12 for. Interacting with other voices in other heads in only the loosest meaning of the word. Cut off someone else’s feet and if you’re completely honest with yourself it makes no difference to that lonely voice in your head… unless you want to pretend it does to try and make your $12 movie more interesting.
I saw a picture when I was a kid in a textbook of a pile of feet. They were thrown in a big pile by Civil War surgeons who were amputating them. Real feet from real people.
But not real to the voice in my head.
Just a funny picture.
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