Growling

I know when the black dog is at my door because I feel a brittle brilliance, as though I am balancing a crystal ball on my fingertips, as though I am unaware that it will fall and splinter.

It's a good time to ask things from me, because I am eager to please, a ball of eagerness.

I should not be left alone when I feel like it. I'm sure I'm good to know when I'm feeling good. But I shouldn't be left alone because I'm so brittle I could snap. And what if I snap and just lie down on the floor and refuse even to bother. Because believe me, sometimes I wonder why.

In three days, I will be bad to know. Even I won't want to know me. What am I saying, even I? Especially I. I don't want to know me at any time, even the best of times.

I know when the black dog is at my door because I feel that everything (or at least anything) is possible. The dog barks when I start to think about why it's not only not possible but impossible. Do you know there is a gap between not possible and impossible? Not possible is can't do it now, can't manage at the moment, would if I could. Impossible is can't do it ever, can't ever manage, couldn't. Impossible is a door slamming in your face.

The black dog growls and asks you why you don't achieve. He growls and asks you why you let slip achievement. He has a much broader view of achievement than is fair. He laughs at you for thinking that he should be fair. He laughs and laughs at the very idea of fair.

Look, it's not as though I don't know that the world isn't fair. I'm not stupid.

I have a crystal ball spinning on my fingertips. I am capable of loving anyone, watch out! Because I find that loving is something you can only do when you are able to have faith in yourself. If you don't, that thing you are doing is not love.

***

Sometimes, all I want is to be kissed. I want someone to turn around and say, I want to kiss you. I could cry, I want it so much. Not because I like kissing, although I do like kissing; not even because I want to feel wanted, although I do want to feel wanted. But because I am afraid that everything has become so familiar that I will never know what it's like to jump in and let the sea wash over me again.

You know, if I could tell S anything, I would tell her, is it my fucking fault I thought you were the sea and all you can manage is a small, turbid lake who wanted another small, clearer lake? Goddamnit. I am spinning a ball on my fingertips. If I stop, I am shattered; and you wouldn't even get wet.

Anyway, fuck that. The earth keeps turning, the days pass, the moments are sometimes good, sometimes bad, the days grow hotter, we are all talking and no one's listening, and I cannot leave this planet.

I know the black dog is coming because I go from loving everything to trying not to hate everything, and it turns on the smallest thing.

***

I can hear it, howling in the night. It is pretending to be my dreams. But I dream bigger than that. Or smaller. I'm not sure. I'm not sure whether I am trying to expand into something so large it's invulnerable, or become so small you just can't even tell I'm there. If I could decide, I would be happy.

The curse, the growl, the howling dog is that I cannot decide.

posted by Dr Zen @ 9:46 pm