adept & adrift

SOBRIETY AND IT'S ACCOMPLICES:

clarity)  an understanding of another point of view!  and i searched so long for one in a bottle!  it was definitely down there, but restricted in glass and airflow.  held breath.  now just dropped down into a campsite in damp weather, with the readiness in mind for the elements but without any goddamned gear.  but i'll figure through it, i'll make it work, because now i'm here, now i'm breathing the vast tree-filtered air, now i'm regulating my own thought, my own life, my own decision and action, the senses are all i need.

health)  well it felt like fucking health just drained right out of me, and kept leaking from my body with every fucked up dream and shitty night and morning headache and half-stare into my own depressed chemical, my own bullshit excuse for a brain think thing that made something some dumb.  but days turned into hours, luckily, and drug turned to exercise, thought to flight, words to metaphor, breath to action.  shit came, as it will, again just keep faith in my own body, it's my own, it's my own, it's my only vehicle.  

platitude)  the same speech you've heard about 8 or 38 times from friends after they've fucked up again and again, well, it comes up out of your mouth like stale vomit but fuck it feels good.  it smells great, like life, like breast milk if you can remember that far back - but you can't.  it's the ending to the movie that you saw with the girl you liked, but instead of the break-up being averted at the end of the plot, you actually get the girl at the end, in your own life, and YOU wrote the script, and YOU got fucking paid for it! yet it's SO bad, and it's such terrible art, but hey: it's yours.

boredom)  motive.  chase.  digress.  sleep.  second guess.  RELIEF.  constriction.  cages.  boredom. creativity?  cell phone?  breath.  eyes closed.  eyes open.  eyes closed, eyes open.  eyes.  eyes.  eyes.  eyes looking at brain.  looking.  waiting.  waiting for nothing.  action.  doing.  waiting.  constriction.  steping, chasing, running. leading.  walking.  just walking.  listening.  waiting.  sleep.

rebound)  at least an interest in something new.  you told yourself how new and exciting the world was when you were young and first went walking into a brand new city on your own, you told yourself you'd never lose this feeling.  well you lost it.  but you can find it, with change comes stability, with rebound comes anything. remember when you were happy with anything?  you're still happy with anything.  this type is anything, this type doesn't fucking matter, you know this, and you love this.  you illustrate this, and you love such an idea.

post oar

closed eyes open; immediate blast of air and color bring them to a magnetized squint.  streaks of white light, undefined sharp shape, a complete exit of molding that my physiology cannot contain.  overload of experience.  after hours of this, like collects with like, things start to make sense, turn upright, borders seem legitimate to my own interpretation.  hues and shades sharpen.

left, right, left, right, spring, spring, spring, spring, that's what i tell myself as each foot leaps to catapult and i reward myself with a higher heart rate sustained for at least 30 minutes.  my eyes blur left and right to keep myself safe every block or so.  i get back and breathe deep and stare at the wall and it seems like it's moving slightly, bowing in barely, pumping out just enough to notice, like the wall is breathing but knowing i'm watching and trying not to be obvious about it.  the electric toothbrush cleans real well, super well, but it joggles my insides, reverberates my something-in-my-brain and makes the numbers on the digital clock in my bathroom move really funny.  like i didn't believe the way the numbers moved at first, and had to stop, and stare, and then try it again, and have now just resigned myself to the fact that they bounce all weird when i'm brushing my fucking teeth.

as i lay, i wonder if i'm unconsciously only turned on my left side to try to get blood to that half of the brain, to keep myself from imagining what could be and to just logically lock myself into a rigid set of breaths, an unquestioning, an ignorant blink.  like a limb kept low and gravity collects the blood, my brain is sensitive to motion these days since my myriad accidents.  i stay still except for my constantly moving legs.  i more often than not drift to sleep and am jarred awake within moments by a quick raging dream of losing my step and trying to catch myself, by an object coming at me that i must catch but can't, by an imminent conscious moment where i must act quick and rescue myself but am unable to.  colors appear in my eyelids as about 5 different shades of black, with amoeba-like shapes and drifts, my eyes close and feel like they're crossed, i try to straighten them because it seems healthy and it seems like i do, but i can never really tell.  the lights my vision create flutter and pulsate, and return as they were burned all day long, and it takes all of sleep to put them back into poor working order again by sunup.