Protected: Skulk away…
Though the sun is reflecting down onto the dark surface of my garments, I am not warmed. It is a beautiful, crisp day and surely the wind briskly smells of joys like apple-picking, thanksgiving and trick-or-treating. I am trying to recall a sense of elation I remember feeling a similar September afternoon but ten days ago only because I hear myself pronounce tritely, “I am so happy…”
Am I hungry or are these butterflies? Do I have a headache or are my eyes tired? Is my mouth dry and throat constricted or am I thirsty? Is this a laugh I stifle or a sob? A smile or a surrender? A sigh or a hiss?
Freud, like so many before him, argued that we only know happiness through contrast and lack. The reverse is not; sadness is not experienced as a contrast to its opposite, in fact, it is a state wherein even the memory of humming a tune, smelling a lover, or basking in a moment is alien. Grief is yearning to shed the moment, lifeless, through a memory…but I can only remember the language used to articulate it.
There is somewhere to go and things to do. The path is worn and I walk alone, recoiling…back from the shivering chill of my body in this external world and into myself…hoping something will disturb by reclusion and I will be able to spring anew…but how long to grow a new skin this time?
Written by feather
September 21st, 2006 at 6:17 pm
Posted in Pseudo-imaginative
I’m here for you. Even when I’m busy… er well me. Check your e-mail.
Lisa
22 Sep 06 at 9:54 am
hope you are having a better day…let me know when i can give you a call, miss ya!
veronica
22 Sep 06 at 2:59 pm