Tense. Relax. Tense. Relax. I turn my head slightly and feel a corner, a cramped cobweb that doesn't want to be brushed away. A dainty legged spider looks at me- his amalgamated body rolling over the bed spread. There is not fear in my heart, but repulsion. I shudder. A stream of energy rushes down my spine. I shake my shoulders, wanting more, more release… it doesn't come. I breath deeply, I hear multiple clicks from my back. I shake my shoulders again. I look back at the spider, crawling toward me- over floorboards. I stay where I am, wanting to be strong. To stand my ground- spiders are friends, not monsters. A sickened feeling crouches in my stomach as the spider taps closer and closer, I kneel, hunched. The tremor moves to my chest as the engorged spider crawls up my knee, my chest, tickling my neck- onto my face. I feel sick, totally disgusted as it lounges on my head, its legs lecherously stroking my skin. It's body throbbing, pus seeps down me. At that point I can stand it no longer- I sharply swipe the spider off my face, shuddering again. I look down. It lies, dead, squashed, on the ground. I feel remorse, but mostly relief.
Smiles. Smiles that tantalise. Smiles that hurt. Smiles that ache. Smiles that lie. Smiles that coax more and more and more. Smiles that don't reach the eyes. What is my smile hiding? We're taught as children to smile. Smile for Mummy! Hooray! We're taught that smiles will make others happy- will make others like us. We learn to smile to express our happiness, we learn to smile to hide our pain. We learn to laugh as a nervous reflex, crossing our arms and legs to close ourselves off as we contort our mouths into a grimace. To protect in our vulnerability that ironically ends up perpetrating our fear. What am I scared of? Being abandoned. By myself.
I rock, backwards and forwards. Sideways- sideways, finding respite in one direction, fatigue in another. Momentum carries me onwards, providing me with the energy to continue. What happens if I stop? A heavy weight sets in- ghosts dance before my eyes. An itch I cannot scratch but food suppresses… Endless endless computer programs, collecting pieces of writing that frustrate me, frustrate me. I want a hug so much. A proper hug. I hug myself, touching my fingers to the outside of my breasts. I rest my face on my arms and breath, deeply. Smelling the wool of my jumper, the oaty smell of my scarf. Today I learned I have a porridge reflex. I eat porridge so regularly that I now take out a bowl when I put a small pan on the hob without even thinking about it. Yum. Porridge is banging. Literally. Nothing will ever beat the nourishing taste of plain porridge with its assorted goodies packed inside.
Life feels hard, heavy. I meditate which deepens my connection to myself and alleviates the strain but the turbulence is still present- turgid. Like a drippy day, if I hide behind my hood the rain distorts and confuses, provides the face of an enemy. A symptom of my dissonance. A dissonance which dissipates and refreshes itself, perpetually but lessening… There is a warmth in my belly now. I feel, sad. But I love myself for my sadness. My sadness reminds me of my mortality, my connection to the earth. It tells me that I am healing. I must rest, descend… Listen. Life is so intense. I want to sleep forever. I also want to dance. I haven't danced for weeks. I want to roll around in the mud, and scream! Cackle with a gross hilarity and shit in my hair. My eyes feel heavy, heavy. There is tension at the top of my spine, under my jaw, in my chest. Thoughts meet emotion. 3 of cups. The emperor. Death. My thoughts desire structure in this world of grids and angles. A productive use of my time. But is that all there is? Does time exist? I'm in a state of constant flux- skin particles entering the stratosphere. There is more to life than reflection.
I feel out of place, out of mind. Tiny fingers tear out of my chest, clawing at my chin. I hold them, gently, gently. I kiss their tiny finger tips. Softly softly. Wrinkles as I smile at myself. A real smile. I want to cry. I hold my tension, breath in, out. Release. So, so much has happened. An internal rollarcoaster. My ten of swords. My finale.
I cry out- the sound muffled by the constant drone of the city. The resonance lost in this world of flickering lights and hollow dreams. A world where death and destruction are not our friends, but our unwelcome slaves. Where my heart gets lost in other people's pain and I'm constantly building barriers to protect myself, myself, myself. When I want a hug there is no one to ask. The trees grow and ripple in the wind- I can feel their dreams as I breath too. They breath out what I breath in. They take on what I push out. They take my pain, and give me life. And what a life it is. What a life to lose. What a life to lose.
I want to live, I don't want to die any more. I won't compare myself to anyone who actually desires suicide, but in my tired body is a deep desire for the end. As there is in all of us. We want to die. Life is tiring, painful… the only barrier is fear. Guilt. Shame. Take it. We want to lose ourselves, surrender, return to the dust that we came from. But now, I want to live- I have felt the kernels of the fire inside me. A repetitive burst of love- pure energy… My pain pours out, flowing heavy around my body- whipped by a tangible wind. Take it. Fucking take it. TAKE IT. Take my pain and feel my layered, layered, layered HURT. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU ALL. If I could I would hate the world but I feel so totally connected, so intrinsically connected… I walk down the street and I can see the emotion on people's faces- I understand- I want to hold out my hand. Its OK. I feel it too. We all do. We are all here together- no one need be lost in the ether if we could just get it TOGETHER. Welcome to you, stranger.
Straight over, straight over. Lock your face, I'm going to EXPLODE! Eyes on the mind, eyes on your behind… Shifting gear, moving to the beat… Why do I feel so empty? So much time, space, empty, empty… I feel drawn to sleep, for lack of anything to do, to fulfil me. It doesn't feel sad, just empty, empty. Like something's missing, missing inside. Can you tell me what's missing? Missing delight. Missing those sparkling eyes, music over the sunrise… but, I am here. All here. This is how it is. I do feel like I should be here. I am here.
What do I want? I want to be closer to death so I can feel more ALIVE. To be on the precipice and feel the wind in my hair, the adrenaline in my heart, the necessity of living truly because life is so much more precious… But I can't continue with how I was living before- living truly is so much more scary without intoxication… perhaps that is the adrenaline I need! To accept my vulnerability, to FEEL it- to really really feel it… I felt so vulnerable after a friend was here. So stripped down, that is my terror. But if I harness that terror, make that my precipice… the dance with fear… I've met my fear. Faced it- felt its cold hand entangled with mine. Now I am on first name terms, I can pull back on that hand- feel the cold body of fear come closer to mine- hips entwined, feet moving faster than discernible- the stakes are high- the flower of life on one side, the oblivion of abandonment on the other- but I can become aware- totally aware, eyes WIDE open, I can lead FEAR in a dance with ME. We are together, always. In my dreams I speak, in my life I dance. "I'll be happy when I die, if I live with arms open wide. If I let my spirit fly. " (lyric taken and modified from the music below)