Some nights it's easier than others. Tonight I've got a tired body and a whirring mind; possibly the worst combo as it results in shaking legs and twisted sheets.
So it is, I am lying in bed caught in a web of wants and needs, pasts and futures, memories and movies. Today it took me the whole morning to sort out which bits of my dream have really happened.
I've never been one for details, I choose to exist instead on more of a general picture level. Concepts are better than facts and the way someone made you feel is much more important than how they did it. The numbers, and even the words don't matter so much except to the outsiders... And maybe the cynics.
As a person I hold bits, strange bits. The thing I remember most about my parents divorce is some time I spent huddled under a blanket next a vent with my cat. It's a strangely calm memory, for observation. The thing I remember most about the day of my attack is similar.. I spent the day wrapped but aside. I didn't speak much, just watched... The cops my family my friends swirling all about and... And him. I watched him. I wasn't really there but I was watching and not speaking. From the moment he touched me to many days later I watched my life and did not live it.
I don't love it; living in a mind that can't seem to grasp the present. But such is mortality, and all this babble has got me feeling tired.
And I better call my guardian mom for a bedtime cuddle... Helps to slow the mind and ease you into a sleep where you feel safe.. Also abates the nightmares some
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