¬†Today I was bicycling home from work and struck by yet another perfect October moon… I always have to mention it, neuropathist year after year, search when I feel our tropical Autumn setting in. Summers are such a drag.

On the subject of drags, I’m sick again.

I don’t know if it’s acceptance, but I’ve come to appreciate sick days, but for one reason only… I don’t know if this is true for everyone, but fevers always cause a sort of tilt of consciousness.

Between being highly uncomfortable, I had some mild hallucinations… auditory ones. I heard conversations, pure noise… I tried to think of a comforting melody to drown it all out, focusing on one sound, but the involuntary noise was overbearing. So I let it take over and felt my thoughts being drowned… like a flooding room. I wanted to get up and write them to let them out, because they felt so alien, as if in another language, and with this impulse, started seeing the words and felt my mind going black… saturated. Only rhyming saved me from losing it. I spent what felt like hours rhyming nonsense in my head. Oddly enough, the more I tried to calm the torrent, the more I was bombarded with this unbearable noise.¬†Eventually, when I got up from bed, I just felt numb. And dumb. Not necessarily a bad feeling…

I also had a handful of comforting dreams… lately I’ve been feeling self conscious about even mentioning them because (and this is in no way a complaint), since SLF and people’s interest (thank you) it feels (only to me) like most of what I’ve done in life is dream… and collect memories to dream, and dream to write, because dreaming and writing feel so similar.

After a few days of fever-dreams and isolation, there’s a refreshing feeling of re-integration… of disconnection, seeing through a haze of slowness, trying to grasp reality through filters of imagination running in the foreground.

And now I realized I started writing in the wrong blog.

This is where I update, and I have no updates – lie. I do. Just not the right motivation.

I do have a photo of my sick face.

Krisia kidnapped me on Saturday night for a short while to take me to an art expo. I know I was probably the worst company that night, but it added to the fever-trip. The night seemed like a dream as well.

Krisia: “You’re sick, I know. You have about 40 minutes to get dressed, I’m coming to get you.”

Me: “Okay.”

I took this photo to see if I looked as messed up as I felt. Surprisingly, I only had eye-bags to show for it.

Tags:

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 3rd, 2012 at 3:30 am and is filed under PERSONAL. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

Comments are closed at this time.