tilted

[prismaticbleed]

 

01:19 am.

 

i know it’s barely 24 hours off the plane but time is tilted forever and we just walked out of eternity into an interim and the timeless realness of all of it is so tangible, even now, even now.

but. god. who would have ever expected this.
we just keep thinking of kris talking to laurie on our phone, and him flat-out saying “kid’s in love. hard f***ing core” and we are just laughing because you know what? we’ve got it just as bad. totally out of the blue but we have got it so bad it hurts.

man.
looks like we’ve got one heck of an undying reason to keep waking up in the morning, even now.
some things are so bright, so good, so true, that there isn’t a single shadow in hell that can stand up to them.

angels have inhabited these bones now and we’re in love and that is enough. that is everything, forever.

#sideways #no words for this feeling #i am the biggest sap and i love it #to your system from our system with love #jay's post


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04:28 am.

 

If you are awake right now, what time is it there and what are you thinking about?

#4:26am yeah buoy #happiest man in the world probably #absolutely glowing with it #love and light and gratitude and hope #nothing else can touch me #i am painted through with stars and harpstrings #heartstrings and constellations #and i desperately need sleep. #thinking about how thankful we all are for this new universe #and for the ones that held our hands and walked with us together into it #good night we all love you so much #see you again soon <3

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10:35 pm.

 

I have exactly 0.05 spoons left right now.
But the lockscreen on my phone is a photo of Reedy Creek Park and it's enough reason to keep breathing right now. Proof that it was real. Proof that I need more than air itself.

I just collapsed in the shower for like 45 minutes solid and just let the hot water crash into my vertebrae and wept. I never realized how touch-starved I apparently was until suddenly I wasn't. Then returning to this house and realizing that human contact is a distant and foreign and inappropriate concept here. Desperate for anything that makes me feel real. Realizing I never had any of that here. Realizing I never will.

realizing that trauma has made us not only touch-starved but also hypersexual and hyposexual and terrifyingly violent and terrifyingly affectionate and at the end of the day we are so damned desperate for human contact that it's no wonder we beg the family to just hit us for god's sake.
we just want love, even if it's just a punch to the face.

kneeling there in the water and sobbing and chaos zero there just holding me for a while. literally the only soul who would ever do that for YEARS. but always that veil we couldn't ever fully cross. wakespace and dreamspace. bodyspace and headspace.
always feeling like dying in the flesh but always finding that somehow i can still breathe underwater.

10:38pm. Time to exist, as per usual.

Listening to all my favorite songs on Spotify and ignoring that introjected abusive voice that tells me it's asinine and stupid as hell to enjoy music and listen to it and enjoy it.
Well, what would you want me to do otherwise?
No answer. A feeling of legitimate hesitation.
"Don't be stupid," it says, audibly unsure. I can feel the rage radiating it at my writing down its words but its also angry because it has no clue what its doing now that it's been asked.
"I'm trying to keep you from being an idiot," it finally says, sounding both relieved and bullying. "Aren't you embarrassed? Sitting there, listening to stupid songs?"
What makes them stupid, I ask.
"They have no point," is the immediate reply. "They mean nothing. They're empty noise and you're wasting their time."
I can feel that they're literally speaking from a hardwired internal script.
If you say music means nothing, then you have not heard any for real. You want to listen to some?
A legitimate faltering. "No," is the reply, more fear than opinion.
You might like it.
Then what? is the unspoken thought.
Then you can enjoy all the little bits of life as your own person, instead of being full of bitter condemnation over innocent idiosyncrasies.
"They're not innocent," it spits suddenly. "They're a waste of time. That's"
and the vibe switches hard, to bleach powder blue.
"You should be praying. Nonstop. Let go of the heathen music. Go to God."
I fail to see how this music counts as "heathen" anything. It's literally classical music right now.
"It is not a godly song."
Listen to that damn piano, then. Listen to the cello. You can't hear God in that?
No response.
God isn't limited by the things S/He Created, you know.
"God is not a woman."
God's not a man, either.
No response.
I'm allowed to listen to music.
"No you aren't."
Says who.
"God."
Get me some sources or I'm calling bullshit.
No response because they're gone.

Kid, what the heck is going on. Talk to me. Even if it's just sentence fragments. Do you want me to ask you questions? Interrogate you or something? What'll help, Jay? Or whoever you are, I can't bloody tell when you're all slidey like this. Slipping. Burnt the hell out. What happened?

I'm depressed.

Yeah, no kidding. Because we're not in N.C., or something less global?

Heh. No, it's… that sums it up. Realizing how toxic this house is. Exhausted from the family battles of today. Wanting to help that one family at church tomorrow but honestly not thinking I have the capability to do so.

Kid, you don't have to say yes if it's going to utterly burn you out.

The saints would.

For heaven's sake, Jay, don't you DARE fall into that girl's propaganda. The saints lived for God, true, but I really don't think that self-annihilation is going to get you any legitimately closer to heaven.

I want to help them.

Can you help them without damaging your health? Can you help them without dissociating or upsetting them by accident? Nothing against you, kid, but I know how hard it is for you to drive alone, let alone with three ESL newbies in the car. I know you automatically love them and want to help them, but I'm just concerned that you're forcing yourself into a nonexistent obligation because you're terrified that saying "no" for mental health reasons will make you a cold-hearted bastard.

does it?

No. This is why. You care so bleeding much it's destroying you. No frozen heart could ever feel that way.

Maybe it should be frozen. Maybe emotions aren't worth it.

Don't you dare, bitch. Jay, do YOU believe that?

No.

Good. Hold on to that.

Laurie, I want to weep. I miss Oliver. I miss feeling safe. I miss not wanting to throw up all the time. I miss not wanting to sob all the time. I miss friendly happy environments. I miss the lack of fighting and panic and yelling and guilt trips and temper tantrums.

and suddenly
impressions of footfalls is playing
the cello part
I look down and its 11:11
hope is breathable all of a sudden.