it's terribly peaceful and i'm quite frightened.
i'm wearing that placid face, i can't feel my legs, i want a cigarette but the thought of leaving the house, of existing in the outside world is making me tremble. cocktails of pills are all that's keeping me conscious through these blurring endless days.
i'm turning into a ghost. i'm excruciatingly bored and what a waste, what a waste, i'm slipping out of sight, out of mind, out of hand.
3 comments:
is it selfish for me to say something like, "but at least you're writing"?
i know it is, but nothing can be so bad if it's the truth, eh, old gal?
darling, it's beautiful, as usual. thank you, rabbit.
Do ghosts have people who will listen closely? I do hope so, because as I become this ghost you describe, the more and more I want someone to be there. Maybe to assure me that everything will be ok in the end.
Need to run to the store to get cigarettes. if I could I would go for you & save you the trip. xx
ways of feeling physical:
-build a fort from colourful pieces of material, put a little lamp inside and turn off the ceiling light so that it glows
-put on strange clothes and sit on a park bench and feel people staring at you
-wear a woollen cardigan and feel the itch
whatever you do, i feel it's important you don't use your imagination too much when you're alone, when you feel this way. you see, ghosts can do almost anything, just like in dreams. you can fly, jump of buildings and bounce up to the next, and turn things into stone. but people can't.
if you read a book, please make sure it's a very boring one, but enjoy the texture of the rough page against your fingers.
love you, rabbit darling
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