Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The Things I Want To Say Get Stuck In My Mouth

You don't even sing my songs, you just hum along

When it's too good to be true, it probably is. But when it's reasonable and you want it more than anything, anxiety fills your lungs, your throat, your tear ducts, and most specifically, your mind. One organ at a time my body will fail me.

Sometimes in the middle of the night when I cannot sleep because of chaos running laps between my ears, I email long paragraphs to my mother and I reminisce about my life. Things from my life that I love, things that I miss, things that hurt and still hurt and change how I am today. I worry when something I want is dangled in front of me, in fear that it might be taken or turned on me, as similar situations have in the past. I believe very much in the body manifesting disease in areas where you hold emotions, so I try to rid my body of the negatives ones as soon as possible, mostly, through conversation with my mother.

My heart is weak and unreliable. When I go it will be my heart. I try to burden it as little as possible. If something is going to have impact I direct it elsewhere. My gut for example, or my lungs, which might seize up for a moment but have never yet failed to take another breath.

The pancreas I reserve for being struck by all that's been lost. It's true that there's so much, and the organ is so small. You would be surprised by how much it can take, all I feel is a quick sharp pain and then it's over.

Sometimes I imagine my own autopsy. Disappointment in myself: right kidney. Disappointment of others left in me: left kidney. Personal failures: kishkes. It's just that I notice certain patterns. When the clocks are turned back and the dark falls before I'm ready, this, for reasons I can't explain, I feel in my wrists. And when I wake up and my fingers are stiff, almost certainly I was dreaming of my childhood.

Yesterday I saw a man kick a dog and I felt it behind my eyes. I don't know what to call this, a place before tears. The pain of forgetting: spine. The pain of remembering: spine.

Loneliness: there's no organ that can take it all.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

And She Would Say: "Today You Believe In God?", And He Would Say: "Today I Believe In Love"

What is being awake if not interpreting our dreams, or dreaming if not interpreting our wake?

Sometimes when I'm having a bad dream, I realize that it's just a dream and I immediately wake up.

My reality and my dreams are starting to have strange coincidences. Everyone has their own beliefs, and I myself am very open minded to this. If I do hold some power to analyze dreams I would very much welcome it. I was interested in dream interpretation from a very young age, and now more than ever, my dreams are getting bolder, stronger, and linger in my mind for days.

It is very rare that I wake up in the morning and forget my dreams. I've made a habit in the last few weeks to write them down in a notebook beside my bed, and then interpret them on the other side of the paper. I'm worried about getting to the point where I may fear my dreams.

A few months ago, I had a very vivid dream about my brother in which he fell, resulting in a head injury. I was so shaken by this that I wanted to call my parents-- who were on vacation at the time with my brother-- and tell them to cancel all of the activities they had planned. I was scared something might happen. After calming down I realized the likelihood of them cancelling their fun plans just because I had a bad dream were slim. A few days later my brother experienced a life-threatening complication with his diabetes in the middle of the night. It gives me chills to this day to think, "what if" no one had woken up to intercept.

A few days ago I had a dream about giving CPR. I remember feeling nervous. I had this "life-or-death" pressure on my shoulders and I felt desperate. I needed that heart to start beating. Today I found out that my grandmother's heart stopped. She's in the hospital and recovering, and so am I, from this new pain in my heart. Maybe the heart palpitations I've had lately were warning. Perking my heart up to let it know it's going to need to be strong. After hanging up the phone I got down on my knees and prayed through sobbing and tears. Never have I felt so helpless or prayed so hard. I never know what to say. Am I supposed to know how to say something that will pour this all out of me and fill me with peace?

Heavy boots today.