thick pillow padding

the world is a daze. i walk around slow, lumbering a full one-hundred and sixty-five pounds like it’s double that. music no longer holds its static energy. instead, the ruckus of anthems and hard beats seem rocky and fake. vision holds a thick vignette around its edges. the silent gaps between sentences open their mouths to swallow me whole before backing away from a noise, then once again commencing their meal. i’m vulnerable prey without a scent or a sense for my predators.

this is the numbness that occasionally comes over me. luckily, it’s not permanent; the tortuous limpness would wash any sanity into the gutter (it has drowned many). but other people do feel buffered from me, like there’s insulated walls wrapped around the positive ascenders of my soul.

while swings of tension and irritability are troublesome, there’s a special trait of absence in this aforementioned state that is even more bothersome. we get used to enduring a wide range of sentiments, so when they disappear, our personality can seem like a partial version of its former self. and if a moment i’d especially prefer to enjoy passed me by because my mits are too clumsy to catch, it continues to expand the gulf between the reality i know and the one i’m in.

you may experience something similar when first waking up from an active, unrestful slumber. besides the grogginess, half of your half brains are still warming up their engines and sparking back to running order. but when it’s taken out of context and sinks a life raft in the middle of an afternoon, too many holes are torn to responsibility plug. almost sporadically, routine functions flip to feats of survival.

who wants to eat when they’re not hungry? drink when not parched? walk with legs of cinder block jelly? talk with a weighted tongue? think through spiderwebbed, humid space?

my perseverance could just be lower than the usual success story. maybe lower than the average bar set by our masses. the strange kink in that observation is when i’m driven by a purposeful task at hand, it’s almost natural to acknowledge and then set aside cruel elements and inner turmoil. is it a cure, or just a distraction?

that answer eludes me without proper experimentation. but possibilities of thrown-down ladders and knotted ropes become more and more viable in conjunction with meaningful goals. a slump can reverse-warp into a sturdy support beam with the bright, energized aid of a mission.

one active example would be typing this post. i awoke from a nap (i’m lazy) and quickly recognized the inherent dullness as a close sibling to depressive plummets. since i hadn’t yet written today, a slight, nagging gravity pulled me toward the compact keyboard. as i flitted fingers around stamped squares, my body and mind stretched and flipped on the breaker switches, despite my physical outline resembling a grandparent from willy wonka. it supports the theory that, more so than coffee or tea, if you want a jumpstart, pick a directive and follow its orders.

it’s either comforting or claustrophobic to switch out mental faculties for infant replacements wrapped in thick pillow padding. if you’re fulfilled from the soft hues, appreciate the soothing effects. but, switching to the opposite post, if it’s driving you further from a grasp on what’s real, an accomplishment might be past due.

– D K T


life ends. why pretend

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