On an Breakdown

 For about two weeks now I’ve been in the United States. There are lawns, and cars and stars and memories and house parties and bars with good beer. In two weeks I am scheduled to go back out into a world that’s supposed to be, feel, smell, seem “realer.” I’m reading and meeting and breathing and ____ and ______ and _____, ___________ in the ____time.

I am scraping the bottom of yogurt containers until my hand starts to shake out of some hunger to consume everything. And I don’t feel like I’m taking anything in, rather whatever “everything” is as a subject is going through me, wrapping my guts around its ugly iron neck like some stylish boa, trailing them along a highway it’s repurposed as a cat walk.

I find that I reel at the slightest sound that isn’t what I want to hear: a television set that’s perhaps obtrusively loud, people standing far away enough that there exists an obvious distance between our lives as strangers but the proximity of their personal bubble is enough for me to easily imprint an imaginary life onto the conversation I’m able to overhear.  Thunder I understand as being “too far away,” friends who want to be near but can’t, family that is just there.

I look at my phone even though it makes no sound. Then it makes one (“Spell,” because communication is magic) and I’m paralyzed because it’s a different version of something I want to see.

Because it is so easy. It is so easy to create the illusion of “I-AM-HERE-NESS.” I can send a message and an email and like and place a call so that you know that I am “HERE,” wherever “Here” is. Not only that, I can interpret my efforts as impositions on not only the person I want to know this, but everyone else.

What is this if not an imposition? And here’s the real question that’s started to drag though me:

How much silence do you have to receive (and over how long a period of time)before you can categorically and objectively , if not just generally be 

*delusional

*creepy

*hell-bent

*neurotic

*listened to

*devastated

*ok with it

Since I started writing this I have checked my email once. Nothing. As I write this I will find a reason to pause

to click and open another tab and click and type and Image

 

While, really, all of those pauses are simply just breaks from actually putting down what may or may not be an interesting thought/series of thoughts because I just hope to finally see the version of what I’ve been wanting to hear: “I KNOW YOU ARE HERE.” Because I don’t want these feelings of “KNOW I AM HERE-NESS” to be valid, in any way. I want them to be invalidated and cast them aside as a “rough week” because of any variety of combinations ranging from the hormonal to the tragedies of long distance friendships, emotional, getting re-used to things, feeling things that are really just reminders of the fact that I am alive and I will probably be alive for a while.
Check email count: 2. Contents: Same.

The fear that I am squandering that aliveness by feeling things that maybe are too alive also exists to an extent. . . But I wasn’t trying to talk about feelings. I was trying to talk about silence. How does the silence inform my feelings?

Silence means no body is talking.

If no body is talking then there must be nothing to talk about.

There is silence, therefore there is nothing to talk about.

But that’s never true because communication is never derivative of one participant. Communication relies upon an assumed set of premises.  The clarification of these premises drives communication once is encounters a break. The break is an imposed silence: someone is doing their job clarifying or acting upon the assumed premises.

How many blog posts does it take to make you 

 Before you can be categorically and objectively be

*delusional

*creepy

*hell-bent

*neurotic

*listened to

*devastated

*ok with it

how much silence must be present? 

ANY.

Isn’t that a bright question? Who really cares? It’s also not the “right” question. Because silence is something that is reactionary. Silence is useful when there’s something you don’t know how to say, because if you say nothing, who can be in disagreement with what’s been shared? There’s only an allowance for frustration with a lack of sharing, but not the content expressed within an opinion, an experience, etc. The premises that have been assumed have been abandoned: there is no longer a communication.
Everything stagnates. It stays fixed, the same; a festering pool. If there’s something you don’t want to share, you don’t have to– in fact, you don’t even have to lie in an attempt to “share-while-protecting.” And haven’t we been doing this since we were teens? Instead of telling your parents that you’d spend the night at a friends, just don’t say anything at all. Instead of telling your friend that you slept with your ex (who they hate because they’re a good friend and they love you) just say “Nothing” when asked what you did the other night. It’s an assumed, imposed silence. Because actually being heard means being vulnerable; means someone can not only agree or disagree with you, but that they must be heard too. 

How much do you have to try to be heard before you are, categorically and objectively

*delusional

*creepy

*hell-bent

*neurotic

*listened to

*devastated

*ok with it

 

 

* not feel guilty

Check email. Stillness.

The thing about a festering pool is that bacteria still replicates. And that shit can kill you.

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