this kind

The type of sickness that makes your fingers feel detached from your hand, tingling in the thumb, weakness in the legs. The kind of sickness that makes you loathe standing, but weirdly, loathe sitting and laying as well. The kind of sickness that makes you want to tear your eyes out of your head and place them gently in someone else’s head, or at least in the warm cloth pockets…who is wearing cloth pockets in this cold weather? The kind of sickness that makes you a little delirious. Touched. That is the kind that I have.

Maybe it’s because the weather dropped forty degrees in the last two days. Maybe because I slept too much today, had to fight to get out of my dreams, to escape from the REM reality, my innards clinging to sleep until well into the afternoon, only being awakened by the UPS man banging on my door, the wrong door, “sorry” he says…

I wish…I wish I could fold my laundry that awaits me without getting up. I wish I could feel comfortable in my own body right now. Immediately. Is there a drug for that? It most likely is terribly addictive. I will wait it out. Hopefully without sweating it out.

~ by kevinthomas on April 6, 2007.