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opening13 January 2002 - 01:47 at first it hits you so powerfully it does not even occur to you that it may not be real. and you are a slave to it, just like anything you believe in. you destroy lives, you try to, you try to destroy your own. you make people cry, you can never stop crying. then you come to realize that this feeling you are constantly breaking yourself in half over might be based on things ... that could be intepreted differently. you realize you are creating it because you thought something wrong. events in the past stir things up that are bigger than they are. your feelings are bigger than you when you don't understand them. then there are months and months of holding yourself, rocking back and forth, over and over: this is not real. no one is leaving you. you will be okay if they do. that need that you can feel in every part of your body, in your soul, that need that *is* your soul, is based on something old that died, that never lived in the first place... you rock back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until you rock yourself right off the edge of a cliff... and you don't fall. and the world opens up. like a wound. or a flower. suddenly you can't tell the difference. |