Dim

The other night it was so foggy that I looked out my window and saw nothing but my neighbor’s distant light like a planet in a dim sky. The snow fell through the fog, hardly visible.

I desire no contact. In this life I am an alien. I will hold aloof all my life because no human relationship of mine can be anything other than an exhausting and unfulfilling imitation of love. Instead I will look to the nonhuman world, the weather and the stars and the earth and the plants and the animals, and make up stories to find meaning in my existence here. I could have been born anybody. I was born myself. In this life and perhaps in every other, I will fight against myself because the world has little use for someone like me.

Well. I feel less frantic these days. Now I feel like a wind that has fallen still.

Sometimes my voice will not come to me at all. Other times my voice goes ignored and unheard. I am sinking down into myself. I have to go on this way forever.

My nose bleeds. My head hurts for days on end. This is all I know how to be.