verdad.
I see a lot. Here's what catches my attention.
"Tell me how you could say such a thing, she said, staring down at the ground beneath her feet. You’re not telling me anything I don’t know already. ‘Relax your body, and the rest of you will lighten up.’ What’s the point of saying that to me? If I relaxed my body now, I’d fall apart. I’ve always lived like this, and it’s the only way I know how to go on living. If I relaxed for a second, I’d never find my way back. I’d go to pieces, and the pieces would be blown away. Why can’t you see that? How can you talk about watching over me if you can’t see that?"
Murakami
a minute in.
I get to my bed at 5am on Saturdays though every day’s a Monday around here. I eat paper and numbers for lunch though I suppose a diet would be good. I run the same errands every three days, because they always say three is better than. I cook for a starved party of one on Sundays who’s never hungry when it’s time to eat. I find enlightenment every ten minutes, and lose sight of it every five. I play the slot machine of faces, and they never make me a winner. I search the coats hanging in my closet to see which one is made of you. I write and it never comes out the way I feel. I make so many cups of coffee and arrange them like flowers. I ask the fish how they’re swimming these days. I listen to music and change it a minute in. I wake up at 1pm on Sundays though every day’s a Monday around here. I eat cereal for lunch because I miss breakfast so much. I fold clothes staring at the phone. I stare at the phone because I’m out of errands to run. I find recipes I have no appetite to meet. I try to write but I have nothing. I gamble on some ears, they don’t get me any prizes. I cook for a starved party of one who’s never hungry. I get to bed at 5am on Saturdays, though every day’s a Monday. I arrange the flowers, even though it’s coffee. I find words, though I dont have any. I play slots with faces, I gamble on ears. I don’t win. I write, I switch songs, there’s none of you to wear. I ask the fish how they’re swimming…these days they change a minute in.
"
I’ve tried to say it a thousand different ways. I’ve tried twisting the words inside out and doubling them back over onto themselves. I’ve tried coming up with words in different languages, because maybe they have words for this thing (I couldn’t say what it is) that we’re missing in this one. I’ve tried saying the same words over and over again in hopes that this time they’ll mean what I want them to mean. I’ve tried writing it down and spelling it out and stressing each syllable across intercontinental static. I’ve filled up pages and pages of paper with what I’m trying to say, but never with what I mean to say.
Maybe it annoyed you in the end. Maybe I should just stop.
"Loren Barnes
