My Brain Was Blended and Fed to My Limbs

I guess there are no big life updates but this morning I cut blackberries in half and the juice splattered small dots onto my belly.

There are no big life updates, but I heard Mt. Joy and I thought of the sun setting early in Virginia and steaming up a shower that wasn’t mine. I heard Mt. Joy and I thought of being seventeen and my feet being so cold that I thought they’d be black and closer to belonging to the earth than to me when I finally looked at them. Last week I cried seeing a photo of me at 18. Well, actually I cried after seeing a recent photo of me, but I only cried because I saw a photo of me at 18 first.

No big life updates, but last night as I was falling asleep I had that feeling I sometimes have where I am an alien-like being and I’m moving my body with another alien-like being. My body is full of melted rocks, like weight in every crevice of me. It’s heavy (this alien body). It’s moving slowly but we are moving together. It’s not sexy at all. Me and the other being aren’t having sex, but that is all I can think to describe it because it’s how I imagine my body moving with that weight and attention and all of it is so fleeting.

No big life updates but I wrote in my notes app to draw a ballerina and I helped an old woman with directions and you forget that that is a real thing that happens—you do sometimes help the old person cross the road.

My big life update is that I think I’m in my head and not my body. I think being in my body has saved me thus far, but now that I’m only in my head and not my body, I am beat. My mind is chasing itself. It’s herding itself. Horses running in a circle. It’s beautiful to watch but they will die that way. There is still nature and a breeze and they are still wild, but they have to run in different directions and see things they haven’t seen.

I keep waking up in the middle of the night. Sweat between my legs. Only there for some reason. Like the other day I accidentally got honey on my thighs. Well, I keep waking up in the middle of the night and I am thinking so fast, it must be thousands and thousands of words per hour. I was up for an hour and a half total. I have conversations in my dreams. All the time. Often with people I don’t really want to talk with. It convinces me my brain hates me. My dreams used to be metaphors, they used to confirm what I was feeling. Reminding me as I needed it. Now they feed my thoughts. They tell the horses to keep running in the circle, that they are still free and it’s good for them. That is what my dreams are doing now. I don’t remember the conversation I had last night, I just know I talked. I hate to wonder if I am in other dreams, I really do.