the sticking space bar
2003-04-10 ~ 2:18 a.m.

the edges get blurry...

thingsallstarttobleedtogether....

i am justtired...and my space baris sticking.

that is reality.

that's not so bad.

so why am i terrified that the sky is about to fall?

"...let your eyes lose their focus a little...let your guard come down..."

there was a night when i was nine or ten...a pivotal night in the relationship between myself and my mom. she had no concept of how to deal with what i had become. she knew nothing of the events in my life. but there was one night that she almost tried. i was sitting on the floor and she called me into her lap...and she held me there crooning and petting my hair and just rocking. and i was beyond it. it was all lost on me. everything left of me was locked away...where no one could get to it.

because no one was safe. i knew that.

and no amount of comforting could take away the bad pictures. it was too late.

yet i remember it. that night stands out clearly to me. i recognized the offer, and appreciated it. which was the sole reason i tolerated her holding me there.

so...the act of comfort i recieved made me feel obligated to tolerate it?

i hate this. i haven't even been in so many weeks and i feel like i want a fucking therapy vacarion.

i need to just get it over with. so much of the problem is straying up to my head or getting lodged in my gut.

all of that to say that i want to be little. and i don't feel like i can.

i am afraid. it might not be safe.

then logic steps in and breaks crazy's nose...and how did i end up at a boxing match in my head?

nice seats, though. on the upside.

all of this to get comfort.

to somehow reconcile love and anger in my head...and in my gut.

i am writing every other line of a multi-part conversation...same as i always do. because i can't type that fast...and i don't type slowly.

..."part of me is fighting this...but part of me is gone..."

on a side note...one of the best things in the whole world i ever got was a little green frog sitting on a rock with an umbrella and a sign that said every cloud has a silver lining. the brother with two first names gave that to me.

don't know where that came from.

tonight when i was leaving my bedroom i felt compelled to grab a notebook and a pen and write...in the corner with the light softly spilling over her...

just write.

soon.

for now, i fixed the space bar...and i am seeking comfort in touch.

have a good night.

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