A COMMUNAL EXPERIMENT IN SELF CURATION

a Soul Project

archival : lightning, thunder :

Nothing here is anything like where you are. The sky fills up with heavy clouds. It flashes and rumbles in distant bursts. Nothing here is anything like where you are, and yet I'm with you in that very place reliving those scarce yet irreplaceable sacred moments. Admittedly, if I could forget them, I would. If I could forget you with some pill or magic, I would. I know that goes against everything I stand for, everything I value about love and growth and lessons and honor—but I'm just so tired of feeling so thoroughly wrecked from you, and for so damn long. I wonder about you often. I fill my empty space with distraction after distraction, activity after activity—all to escape wondering about you. Constant flight mode. I hate you, I miss you, I hate you, I love you. GO AWAY ALREADY.

The lightning signals, the thunder speaks. I don't speak your language anymore, don't you understand!? Don't you understand that we never should have been together!? I don't want to learn anymore! I don't want anything anymore. Not right now, at least. I want to be alone, and at the same time it's the very last thing I want. I want to fill up with someone and feel them filling up with me! Where were you for that!? WHERE DID YOU GO!!?

I'm pushing the world away at the same time that I'm attempting so vigilantly to participate in it. I want nothing to do with these endless anonymous strangers! I want nothing to do with this breathing, this waking up, this forced activity, this laying down to sleep—knowing there's another day ahead of waking up, breathing, and laying down again to sleep. I want to live, but I don't want to live in a body that feels like this, like it almost always has. And those brief times with you that felt like magic, that felt like LIVING should feel like? I have no idea where that feeling went.