Pal Non (neohippie23) wrote,
Pal Non
neohippie23

never forget

the cancer might come back. you might die. you are not allowed to be upset by hypotheticals. you've pretended not to be upset; now you have to pretend not to be a liar. you do not know if you are comforted or made fearful by death. the ego is like salt. satisfying but unhealthy. excess in tears. you are not your name, your accomplishments, your actions, your mistakes, your aspirations, your feelings, nor anything. your past excuses nothing. do not feel proud of kindness. do not be proud of your ideas. do not feel pride. things will be clear when you blink.
you allow yourself this little mercy. a few words to the aether. you are weak. you disguise your weakness with arrogance. you disguise your weakness in humility. you are not confident. you are not humble. you are a cipher. you dress in love and opinions. it is simply fashion and repugnant to you. the objects are solid and deserving and your feelings are a disservice because you are uncertain. you are barren. you cannot accept sympathy though you desperately want. and that is why.
everything becomes more terrifying daily as if you are coming closer and closer to something sublimely real. not even the pyrrhic victory of solipsism is open to you anymore. the idea of an early death rationalized mistakes. the reality of it stares into the funhouse mirrors of memory and the alien reflection is at turns comic and sobering. caricature and grotesque. you are permitted to flinch. that is all.
no art. no craft. no skill. no land. no progeny.
but after all, it is all you can do not to laugh aloud. just in case someone can hear.
and when you're alone. and, if you look in one direction for a moment too long, your eyes start to water.
your muscles tense
you look away and away
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