Archive for November, 2004

Isolated Lines, Arranged in Chronologically Descending Order

Monday, November 15th, 2004

It always seems that I am one staple short, and everything comes unbound again.

Every day when I wake up, I become a pallbearer.

When mortals abandoned the old pantheon of Gods, we took responsibility for ourselves. The weight that Atlas once bore is now distributed across mankind, but this heaviness is not distributed evenly.


Monday, November 1st, 2004

I do not remember being born, nor do I know what it will be like as I die.

Sometimes, I like to take a warm bath. I draw the water up to the edge of the overflow drain and then climb in. I cross my legs and lie down. Squeezing myself into the tub and laying back, I let the water envelope me and drown my senses. And for a brief span of time, everything beyond my mind falls away. I am free. But soon, the water disappears through the overflow drain. As the water drains away, my body fills back in. I feel the cold weight of my body begin to cling to my torso as I breathe in and rise. My own cold flesh wraps around me, tethering my mind to this world with tangible form.

I think that this must be what birth is like: transition from freedom in tiny space to entrapment in vast space. And I imagine that death must be like this too, only grander in scale.