Swaddled and wet

You ask where I have been lately and forget those times that I have attempted contact. Ignored once, twice, it doesn’t matter. They are still ignored. Or acknowledged slightly and that hint of communication exists momentarily but you break it once more and come to me later asking ‘where have you been?’

Paranoid faces and empty spaces where our words should have been. It makes me wonder why you ignore me so and then start believing that our roles have been reversed now. They haven’t. But I think I have given up for while as I am not sure what else I am supposed to do.

Tomorrow I have an exam and though it is only two hours of my life in which I will write approximately 8 to 9 pages of ideas, I cannot help but feel apprehensive. Which is unusual for me. A weighty expectation that exists in nobody but me. An attempt at ‘revision’ has been already been made, and failed tremendously today, though it is only 13 minutes to midday.

What do you do when you realise that you used the wrong word entirely? It may undo everything I have worked for, just one word. Miscegnation. How did I manage to get it so wrong? I wonder ifthey will notice? They are supposed to notice, in which case I may experience my first fail this coming July when those ominous scores are posted online. Counting words as well, how did she manage to screw us all up and get awayw ith it? 1000, or 500 more, it makes a difference you know. Get it right you pretentious, right-wing, ignorant snob. next year get it right, for their sakes.

The skin on the back of my legs is considerably darker than the skin on the front of my legs.

I am swaddled in towels and have half a mind to keep it this way. For the rest of my life, in this bed. Hair hidden, body on show a little bit with nobody to see. Just me. Wrapped loosely in cotton and smelling of Jasmine. All of my life and my hair will forever be wet.

Everything we do and think is a direct result of other peoples actions.

Discuss.

COMMENTS

3 Replies to “Swaddled and wet”

Scott says...

First of all, using one word in the wrong context does not constitute as an automatic fail, but you know that deep down, so no need to worry yourself.

I saw you in those swaddling clothes. It was cute. I wouldn’t mind if that is literally what you had on for the rest of your life. I think that winter would make it more difficult to continue wearing them as the cold will eventually take its toll.

I don’t have a major amount of time on my hands to discuss your comment “Everything we do and think is a direct result of other peoples actions.” But I do agree, whether its members of our family, people when spend time with, work colleagues and even people we are at war with. They are who shape us into who we are. Its like we are playdoh being squashed through tiny different shaped holes and what ever shape the hole is we come out the other side differently, shaped by the holes we have just been squashed through.

Recently I have been thinking about how everything and everyday is another challenge. As with most things challenges can be good or bad depending on the circumstances but at the end of the day we are just here to beat the challenge, if we can do that we move onto the next. Exactly like Mario and Bowser. Life is a sequence of meaningless challenges that we all must attempt to complete. They are infinite, as soon as one has finished the next one is starting. Some are multiplayer and need more that one person to complete.

I don’t know if its a depressing or a fairly optimistic approach to life but all I know is that my next challenge is to get to work without running out of petrol.

x

Amber says...

“Alone, I unable to recognize myself.” Michael Alpert said that and I wish I had a copy of his book for every person that I love in life. Unfortunately I found it on a dusty shelf in a closing down store and I haven’t seen it anywhere since. So much of what I do, Heather, is a show. It is only for the people around me, to impress or entertain or understand. The few times that I am entirely me- when I am swaddled in a towel or just about to wake up or changing my socks- I find myself questioning that face that should be so familiar; but is actually quite the opposite. You know that feeling when you repeat a word so many times that it becomes only a sound and nothing recognizable? That is how I see myself when I am alone. Only a face which has a name, a label, which after a while is only sound. Sometimes when I am writing I can grasp it. But it’s only brief and then it is ruined by my obsession to find the perfect word- another label, another sound. I know that I must have a core which is purely me. Otherwise I wouldn’t exist at all. But there are so many things wrapped around that core now, from 21 years of being alive and being directly influenced by faces and events, that I hardly know its bare weight anymore. But I like the layers. and honestly, i wouldn’t choose to remove them even if that meant i could know my unburdened self. To be very VERY honest I am a little scared of what that core consists of. so I choose you and all the others who are wrapped around me now like soft, cotton towels. you smell like jasmine. and that is beautiful.

Ghostboy says...

“Everything we do and think is a direct result of other peoples actions.”

I don’t think that social human beings are conceivable without a degree of influence by people and events. With that established, you are responsible for your own identity. I believe that anything you were taught before gaining realization can be deprogrammed if you challenge it with the right questions. Will and curiosity is what it takes.

You can’t define what you are given but you can decide how to handle it. The only variable here is the determination to uphold your own convictions.

And those were my two cents :)

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