you told me there was this way of exploring our own memories that was "over-distanced" - the idea that we can learn to stand so far away from our lives that it cannot hurt us. the problems shrink when they are so far away. we can keep our souls tethered at the end of a long leash, holding them above where the sharp things can reach.
i said - oh, i always just say "that thing is too hot to touch right now." my life like learning to stand as far from the fire as possible. my life like watching the pot boil over. my life, a little scattered. the air up here is so thin; it is almost froth. it's a little sad trade off - down there is joy, i know. but that is also where sorrow stalks.
don't i want to be happy? don't i want to be whole?
on the phone, i heard your breath catch a moment. for a horrible, terrible instant, i thought you were going to notice the truth of it: that i haven't been on this earth in a while. if this is all happening to me, i've felt exactly none of it.
oh, my beautiful life is changing again. oh, my one beautiful life. the way it turns in the wind; wild and frantic - so funny, at this angle, at this distance: it kind of looks like a fevered & caught animal, doesn't it?