Dissociate

I feel. I feel emotions, I think…. Sometimes….

Sometimes not. Empty. Searching. Grasping. Futile grasping.

What was that sadness that engulfed me before it went away?

Happiness? Just a dream, so far away.

Anyway, it's all far away.

I'll watch myself now- hey! Cinema IRL. But f**k if it's interesting.

The main character is a mess. I would have wrote her better.

Flying super powers, maybe. Unmatchable intelligence, definitely.

Not a Mary Sue, per say but it's gotta be better than this s**t.

Same thing. Each day. Wake up. Communicate. Fail to communicate.

Lay in bed. Lay in bed more. Does she even move? More laying in bed.

Sleep…

Maybe tomorrow she, no I, (do we even know?) will go for a walk.

Go for a walk to contemplate? Maybe. She might dig up something better left in the ground.

Is it worth it?

Reviews

[JC]

I like the honesty and meloncholy of this piece, enjoyed the read.

[KWP]

hello tipsy - I love this.

So fresh and darting here and there - ahh, this is life. This is life also caught up in the mind. I was listening to Krishnamurti today and he explained emotions and thought and how we should seperate them both and be an observer. Very interesting stuff for those who wish to move past this damn human suffering BS.

Your poem though - quite delightful.

You have inspired me.

I shall have a glass of something later and write ...

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Omg I see so much of myself in these words. I almost like feel you were peeking through my bedroom window, God I hope not, if so the hand lotion and baby wipes on my cabinet are for grooming purposes, I swear. Great job on this poem it was a joy to read, if not scary because it literally felt like you were writing me. Hahaha.

[the tipsy writer]

Ha! Noted on the hand lotion and baby wipes... :) Thanks for the comment!