story i’ve never written much more of but reflected my feelings a lot at the time

To fly is to fall. It’s only a matter of physics and time.
More enigmatically, with every fall is a chance for flight.
It’s about choice.
It’s about love.
After she left there was a hole in my heart that wouldn’t close no matter how tightly I held myself, no matter how hard I shut my eyes against the world.
I suppose I was not in the most stable of conditions then.
Words turns in my head as the damn writer in me stood back and observed, clinically, coldly, my reaction.
Apart, I thought. Adjective. Apartment: the state of being apart.
So chattered the infernal internal eternal editor in my head, disturbing the glass silence.
I felt nothing. I don’t think so, at least – I would have remembered or taken note, writing down every scientific observation of my pain to be regurgitated later in some stupid story or another.
I sat and the meaningless babble of my thoughts filled my head like static as I thought about myself thinking of myself thinking of myself thinking of myself like a double mirror reflecting into infinity.
The voice chattered and I, very quietly, shattered.
The voice in my head came up with that rhyme, the distant damned spy that was me.
Do you see now what I mean? As I write this I am being as genuine as possible, almost too honest to be truly honest because I want to seem honest so that you might believe me. To do that I have to make myself believe in the fervor of emotion, to force myself into feeling something specific, to make spontaneous mindsets contrived…
Orwell talked about double-think, but there is more than that. God, yes. There is triple-think and double-think squared and a thousand upon thousand levels of simultaneous and conflicting thought…
It was probably at this point that I threw the lamp at the wall to break the frozen eternity of repeated reflection.
And it was probably at this point that I started crying.

—————-
Listening to: Godspeed You Black Emperor! – Static: Terrible Canyons of Static; Atomic Clock; Chart #3; World Police and Friendly Fire; The Buildings They Are Sleeping Now
via FoxyTunes

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