mei

my brain is odd. i think that my medications have finally worn all the way off. it's weird. it's as though i'd been living in a fenced-off meadow, so used to the fence that i didn't notice it anymore. so used to it that i kept to the center of the meadow by default. safe, easy feelings there in the wide-open. lately, there's been wind in the trees, and as i walk towards where the fence was, i realize it's not there anymore. that's a dangerous thing. because the forest is dark, and i like to walk in the dark. there's something more intense about it. and i know that when i look back, i won't see anything sad and angry - all i'll remember is that tempting intensity. poignant. martyr mei, retrospectively relishing her cross. i'm used to the fact that my memory is faulty, though. i know that i won't feel the pain of the night-creature that slinks from the woods and sinks its fangs into my leg. i'll remember how bright the blood was, and how soft the animal's coat looked. and because of the peculiar nature of memory, isn't that all that matters? once i've lived through a shipwreck if all that washes to shore are pieces of soft sea-glass can't i look at them with fond eyes?

this is especially dangerous because of the penchant for soft self-harm. which i'm so conflicted about. in many respects, it makes me feel immature. people talk about their waltzes with that particular partner, and it's always so far behind them, and they were more intense about it, too. "in junior high, once, i went to far and they took me to the hospital." "i had one of those kits, with iodine and razors. but i threw that out when i turned sixteen." i'm older, and more cautious. it makes me feel pathetic.

but suddenly, without medication, the idea of it isn't nauseating. it's regained the sense it made. i never figured out why slight pain is a bad means doing whatever it does in my brain, but medication built that fence for me. now it's gone and i never learned to respect that boundary. so i need to find that reason again. i need to stop looking at my seven thin scars as beautiful - because they are, to me. i need to figure things out.

forgetting and remembering. i haven't been in this place in a couple of years. i feel like i've slipped back into a familiar article of clothing - and i wonder why i ever left. i like myself this way, when i'm not hating how i feel for the moment. i just don't know if other people will be able to deal with me.

/end rant ('twas overwrought. muddled meanings and mixing metaphors. sorry.)

the moon has been huge lately. last night i watched it coat the river with little crystals - cadeaux pour les ondes. the moon is the only thing that makes such cold light look organic.