Jumblenest

And you are nothing.

I can still do it.

Fuck! How could I forget that! A one life left and a pseudo hypochondri (mito macklemore) mac

I've been praying wrong, I think, fervently, quietly, knees pressed against hollowed halls and heartbeat. There are no flowers blooming, my apartment has no garden, no yard- nonplussed, I think of lillies. If I were Them, I think, I might rather prefer bouquets to monuments, serenades, to silence.

I was shaping pottery, porcelain, in my dreams. My fingers left prints presses and folds. I breathed in that dream darkness, that spinning hall. Glory, oh glory why do you stare at me so? the harder and harder I press, the less there is to let go. glory, glory, oh glory, rivers and tides pull my feet, you wash my colors away. dreams, billow beneath. sand and mud, wilting, wilted, sleep. Legacy. Nowadays, I only own white ceramic. No one to speak to but the mirror; I should have swam down small roads, and sought out the faded stores. No one to speak to, oh glory, destiny died with me.

I was out for dinner with my sister. I told her about my roommate, barely passing CS classes. "Why?" she, the Yale law school honors graduate, Jefferson Scholars recipient, asked. People often ask me if I'm envious of my sister. If I'm jealous, or feel lesser/ compared to. Not exactly. I told her my roommate was getting an ADHD diagnosis, had bad insomnia problems, and had some bad habits from highschool. "Told you so", she said. "Now you understand how I see you. I always told you you needed to fix your bad habits." I once explained to my roommate, that yes, I do come off as rude, judgmental, and opinionated at times. That yes, I come off as arrogant, self-centered, and obsessive. I have heard the same words multiple times. "Smart but lazy." Let me explain. *** There is the big 3 objects one has to pay attention to. Wallet, phone, and key. Wallet and key in separate pants pockets to not chafe, phone in a jacket or lower pants pocket. Today I had to go to the greenhouse to water the tomato plants. I had to collect data, which meant I had to bring a pen and paper. Turn on faucet, check data before watering plants, water plants, send text to chat, close faucet, make sure door is closed. Wallet, phones, key. Notebook, pen, remember page data was written on. Color coded notebooks. Check weather to understand how much to water. Weather on phone app. Class tomorrow at what time? Check class time. Where class? what weather? What clothes to wear? Wallet, phone, keys, pen, paper. Computer, case, charger, food, container, spoon, lunchbox. Wallet, phone, keys, notebooks, computer (in the case), lunchbox. What were we doing in class? Exam on Friday. Class in what room? Check class room. It's hot outside. Wearing too much clothes. Did I bring the notebook for class? What was the class topic? What will be on the exam? Where did I sit again? What is that facial expression? What is that person saying to me? I know that person in the hallway. Wallet, phone, keys, bag, journals, lunchbox, computer. Water bottle. It's hot outside. Need to drink water and take salt pills. When was the last time I ate? What is that person saying to me? I could respond this way, they would have this reaction. Do I want them to have that reaction? I think this response is better. This facial expression. Chair. Dropped lunchbox. Wallet, phone, keys. Blue notebook, Exam on Friday. Emails to send. Did I have a next class? Someone's messaging me on discord. Email notification on phone. Professor is speaking. Lecture started? No, making jokes about stuff. When next class? Did I have food ready for between class? Did I drink water? Where did I leave my water bottle. It's bright and hot. Forgot to send email, reply to texts. Mom asking question. Discord notification. Class starting. "I always told you you need to fix your bad habits." Missed assignment yesterday. Exam on Friday. Assignment other class. Open office hours on this day. Forgot to study. "I always told you you need to fix your bad habits." "I always told you you need to fix your bad habits." *** I know that feeling. That feeling of something being deeply wrong inside of you, something you can't articulate, that no one including yourself understands. A discomfort that will never be considered. A discomfort you ignore. I see it. What am I supposed to do? Be kind? Reassure them? Then they want to be friends, want to be close, tell me how I'm the only person who sees them, tell me how I'm so kind, tell me how I make them a better person. "Why are you so cynical?" "Life is good? Why do things need to change?" "Must be nice to be so smart. Why are you always so tired? Why do you want to sleep all the time?" Forgot to respond to Mom's question. Mom panic calling, roommate laughing. My mom says, I reminded you so many times to leave on your ringtone outside of class and just turn it off during class. Why do you never remember what I tell you to do?

I wonder if flying drowns.

What can I say? I'd rather plant trees than burn them. I've lived my life burning things, lamp and lights flickering for fickle nights. I regret it. I'm ashamed. No reason not to fight. I still rather plant trees than burn them. I want to write. I want to send my words out into the world, with myself in them. *** And so I asked, what is love? I watched a flower bloom in my mind. Even as the mind itself, and the world around it, rotted away. A friend said, I had no obligation to help. Even in my dead and dying throat, the tree of my lungs released a tsunami of life. I didn't speak, but I didn't had to. All that I had learned spoke for me. "So the sword I think of is a blade that brings spring."

I wanted to write a poem, but it was not enough. I wanted to hear it.

"Hunter," they said. "The stars are unsettled tonight. You have to eat, or else no one will build the bridges." The sheen of crow feathers nested in the back of my eyes. Magpies are not crows, I muttered. But it's not as if I know the difference without asking.

Sometimes I feel as if I am a witch who lays curses just by the slightest breath. In that slice of relief, exhaled, I can see the hollow eyes of my father, sent through text, begging for attention. They don't haunt me like I should. I don't feel, like I should. There was only one conclusion I could reach, watching everyone suffer less yet more than me. That I was evil, somehow. Split lips, a red dot in the mirror. "You don't understand", I say, "It didn't happen to me. I was no victim, nor deserve to be." Split lips, a red dot in the mirror. I sway back and forth on my feet. Buzzing in my hand, the phone says: "I'm sorry", or maybe I said that. Because I know it'll be a text from my father mother sister advisor assignment payment rent plan, plant, planet, planting my sole against the weight of the floor and stopping the spinning and turning, The mirror-me let out a guttural scream. The real me, hollow eye mirrored, split lips and a red dot, said nothing. Buzzing in my hand, the phone says: "I'm sorry", or maybe I said that.