unfinished snippets

not here, not really anyway

 I'm having one of those moments again. One of those moments where I don't feel real and nothing feels real and no matter what I do I can't seem to ground myself. For all I know I could be floating in the middle of space, because I feel so damn disconnected. It might have something to do with the fact that I haven't had human contact in a while, but it also might be due to my lack of sanity and security.

 I look at my hands, marveling how God made something like this. But then something creeps through me and suddenly my hand is not my own. It's not even a hand anymore. I look in the mirror and gently touch my face. Lips, a nose, hair - all my own and also not. Who am I? For some reason I can't associate my body with my mind and that scares me.

 A lot.

 So I lie on my bed, rubbing my arms and trying to bring myself back to reality. Back down to hell. Perhaps the reason why I can't is because I don't want to. I don't want to return to a world full of misunderstandings and disappointments and everything giving me a headache all at the same time. 

 "I want to live here!" I exclaim, trying to make myself believe it. At least up where I am in space no one will ask you where you want to be in five years and how you can help other people when you're barely managing to exist on your own.

 So I walk down a dirt path, kicking stones under my feet and savoring the sting because at least feeling pain is feeling something.