Words and pictures and sound.


My hands are knots I can’t undo. It feels like the air is compressing only directly on top of me. It seems self involved to worry why no one else has noticed but I do that too. I hadn’t eaten all day. My stomach hadn’t rumbled and if it had I will deny it. I got a little lost and I drank a lot of water which can usually makes you ignorant to the hunger. The quivering spread from my stomach into my blood stream and felt as if it had taken all the blood back to the stomach again. It rose, I fought it. It rose again, I shifted in my seat. The pressure became a vacuum and I was gasping in my head. I flushed and shifted once more. The breeze blew and all of a sudden I was okay. I drank more water.

I wasn’t very nervous. I had convinced myself not to be. It was easy enough. I didn’t strain for it, concerned it would have the opposite effect. I stopped being able to tell long ago where the affectation began and stopped. At some point you have to become a thing weather you like it or choose to. None of it mattered though because I was only there. Usually I multitask but it felt good to be somewhere. I held onto it, to the point of maybe missing decisions. There are always more to be made though, that I’ve found out.

  1. smjonesz posted this