earthmover

 

wondering about how close i am to the day God will strike his final blow. to my jaw or my nose. im so surrendered. i feel terrible. im ill and sad. this heartache is killing me. i wish i was somewhere else. this has been the worst point of my life. im in the depths and i know it can get worse. i know the ways it can get worse but i dont know which one is more likely. 

im suicidal. but i dont want to do it yet. i have things to do and knots to tie. i want to die. i want to leave. i wish that death was more like a slip into a pleasant dream forever. where i could rest. i wish death will be kind, like the edge of wakefulness before sleep. blissful, quiet, slow-moving dark such as the depths of the ocean. nothing to do and nothing to see. the pressure comes from each angle, from each face. 

im so terribly strung out. it feels horrible here. its cold, damp and bleak. my room is dark.

had one of those dreams again where i live a pretty life and im satisfied and all around me is pleasure and this palpable, muted bliss. its a bliss so dense and all enveloping. one of those dreams where, after you just woke up and your consciousness is not exactly aligned in clarity. 

its like one of those where you have the feeling that if you don't move at all and are able to push past the wake, you may be able to slip back into it. and if youre able to repeat the cycle over and over, maybe life in our world could become irrelevant and you could live someplace where the land is flowing with milk and honey or what have you. 

i was at a private concert of sorts i dreamt i was beautiful and healthy. i remember i had a gift, a painting, for one of the artists. i gave it to his manager, or what seemed to be. he pulled me aside while we were waiting, told me that the artist was suffering gravely. he described me his symptoms. i felt bad. i didnt know he was in such great distress, i related deeply. i told his manager, or whatever he was, that i knew what it felt like- that i was a psychologist and if he ever needed any help or had any questions on how to deal he could always call me.

the act started and lasted a few minutes. the artist, who by this point had not met me, recognized me as the girl who was talking to his manager who couldve been his dad or even a security guard for all i knew. he came down after it all happened and we spoke. he was gleaming, his skin was smooth and his hair framed the sides of his face and fell into loose ash brown curls. he looked like me. only a bit. the clear, pearlescent greenish eyes and the pale face and the small frame, young looking face. smooth angles and pink lips and cheeks like a child. 

we spoke and he knew i knew of his issues. i consoled him, he seemed very upset. i tried everything. he maybe cried a bit, teared up a little. he was glittery.

i tried to tell him how much he mattered to everyone around us. how beautiful and talented and kind he was, what a luminous heart he possessed. how rare his gifts are. but i knew it was useless. we bonded over our grief and sorrow. how forsaken we could feel. he cried and spoke quietly about how his sensitivity was a curse as i held him by the side. we were there for a bit. 

 i wanted to tell him what i would tell myself, that it is, but he is a great artist and he would live forever. i told him i was sorry and he didnt deserve this. which is true. he calmed down. he looked at me and i could tell by his expression he was done crying. he brushed his cheeks with his hand.

i dont know if hes real in this realm. he told me thanks, he wanted a cigarette and i had no money. he mattered to me so much. he shared two cigarettes with me. we talked a bit about smaller things. he had to leave, and he caresses my jaw and looked at me in the eyes and he said thanks. he went on his way. part of me wanted to keep in contact. but i knew he had better things to do.

 he kissed my hairline and i kissed his hand and blessed him without speaking. he went on his way and i put the cigarettes in a small ornamented box. i felt starstruck, like i saw an angel. maybe he felt the same thing. one of those encounters where the two sides feel like they saw an apparition. i knew we were going to keep each other near forever, just not physically. he walked off. i stayed thinking. 

in my second dream i dreamt that i was beautiful and healthy. i was with someone. i think i remember him from many years ago. i mustve seen him last when i was maybe fourteen. thats just my hypothesis. its a face i feel like ive seen before, a face i used to be very familiar with even. i dont know who it was though. in my dream, i liked him. he was peaceful and serene. very quiet. in this context he was someone i knew well. i was with many people.

in this dream, i saw dead people and we were in an island full of rain. i was with someone and he liked to surf in the morning. it rained and rained. in this dream, i saw dead people. i saw people i hadnt seen in ages. my old jazz teacher, my aunt. people who have died. my grandparents. i felt like their existence was fragile. one sneeze on them and they would evaporate. it wasnt like that. 

we were peaceful, this stranger and i. we would lay there, over the green ocean waves, cradled on top of each other like cats. taking in the sun. in this dream, there was no God. there was nothing. i was free to do anything and i would never die. i was free in an island paradise. i ate fruit and i was already dead. i was young, healthy, beautiful. he brought me paint in the evenings and small 1x1 canvases and i painted and painted. i painted the man from my other dream, i painted women in big dresses, i painted him. i would paint while he would have fruit for supper. i could smell the salt and eucalyptus on his skin from my small studio. the walls were teal and worn down. the rain fell over me and my canvas, i didnt mind. 

he was white hot, always baked by the sun. stood tall and strong like a tree. golden glow to his pearlescent opal looking skin. eyes shining like golstone and tigers eye. everyones was like that. i wouldnt get too close. we were correlated in some way. all of us. we were in a weird eden and they couldnt hurt us.

i think i have influenza, i wasnt vaccinated for it and i wont even try. i will not get it checked out and i will not take medicine or eat much. i will let myself die this week. see what happens.