I was staring at a bush – it was a green bush – and the sun was beating down bright on it, with a thudthudthud in the background of a neighboring child and his mandatory thirty minutes of tornmuscleecstasy. Yes, I was staring at this bush trying to find a rhythm in the cold sounds, and I was staring at this bush, right? And I was staring and there was nothing. Everything was a shade of gray – all of it – and I knew then why wide-eyed deer tend to slice themselves open on the tiles of my floors, all pearls of red swirling somewhere deep and away with those fears of this plague that you lay with and those tears that can't be wiped away. This bush I was staring at, it didn't stare or speak back, mere stillness in the thudthudthud, but that stops and all is silent: every star in the sky has gone dull, the whimpering of the caged animals cease to exist, and it's back to staring at the bush. So, I am staring at this bush – it's green as I have mentioned before, and the sun really is beating down on it – but it is still appearing gray, as if my vision has regressed to that of my beagle, and my stomach is churning from mid morning burnings, but I have switched back to water, water exclusively, and unfortunately it doesn't burn when it goes down (no more mid afternoon burnings anymore), but (like everything, I suppose) I want it to; burn when it goes down, of course. And the beat picks back up and the sounds come rushing back, but the tinnitus kicks in, and C# is tearing through my left ear, shredding away at my cochlea, I really just need to sleep. The thing about it, really, this bush, it should have been green, it was green, I saw it, okay? But see, it didn't appear as such, still gray, and everything was gray, and so I went back inside – stopped staring at the bush – and decided to enter back into the dimly-lit papier-mâché of the skull, all sickeningly translucent and seductive. It's calling me back into my subconscious where you all leave, overandoverandover again, out this way, out that way, “Do not touch me,” here are your records that you left at my place, yes I will grab your shirt, I didn't see it in the bottom shelf where our pajamas went, and it's all running like silver-screen exploitation, an explosive cacophony of my existential ambiguity, and I still can't understand why I see gray while staring at a green bush with the sun's illumination burning out my retinas (which I would gladly take seeing as disease will steal them eventually and everything is already gray and not green, so yeah, there, what is the point?). I dread the sound of every passing vehicle, I just need sleep, please god, just let me sleep, and no, thank you kindly for the offer, but I still don't want to see her leaving anymore, I've played it out dozens of times already, with the face and the tears, and they taste like sweat so you know, like blood minus the burning sensation it causes later on. I can feel my body's shifts now, as I giggle and cry while Barbados slithers across a stage, I can feel it as the bottom of my stomach slips out from under me and my wrists begin to throb. Then I can feel as the current begins to carry me outoutandaway and the graynotgreen begins to overwhelm all ofhowithinkiloveyou and is replacing my memories with my nightmares, all leaving and still, “Don't fucking touch me,” and ireallyneedyoutositdownandlisten because really there is too much to ever explain and even if I could I dontknowifit would evermattermuchmore than a cheap symbolic card from the same places that sells me my suicidalliquidcourageinabottle and I'm beginning to run mad, and it is driving me to loose ends, and I really need to see that green bush, and I want to stop fixating on the cold gray, and I am really starting to have a hard time coping, and I am starting to realize that people no longer sleep, and I notice that there is moreandmore blood now that I am here, and I am taking note of thesenightwhereisnapinasinisterkindofwayandcantcalmthewatersbecausethetumultisbeginngtobetoomuchtotakeallinstrideandpleasepleaseknowthatitsnotaguiltthingijustreallyneedthissilencethatdoesntstopwhereiamnolongeraplagueandinolongertakemarathonjabsatyouandeveryonesleepsagainandwalletsstayfatandnobodyworriesthatohnothisisthatonethatweveallbeenwaitingforbutno
I think that will happen elsewhere.
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