I became an empty shell.
I turned into hairstyle, nails, tan, pedicure, in everything that didn’t have anything to do with everything, into big breasts, tight ass, into day by day and day by day…
It didn’t have any sense. What’s the meaning? Point? Reason? Bare survival; I let my body to take control (again!) and just satisfied my urges, thirst, hunger, physical needs, sex, sex, sex… Fucking sex! Always sex! Never more and never the less, just sex… Sexual attraction, hormones, desire, passion, pheromones, scent, skin, lust! Hands were thinking instead of the brain, they were undressing and dressing, putting the food in, whipping the mouth, pushing inside, got dirty and always washed themselves never to clean the conscience! What was I searching for and where did I look for it, why did I look, and again without any order, like I need an order! The body had swallowed the brain out of pure obnoxiousness, from hungry eyes, with no regret or shame. Without any control (and that order which I didn’t need) the body continued to do whatever it pleases and desires. Awful!
I met with myself and said that this’s not going to happen anymore, and the body just waved back at me, without any consideration, with those hands, saying: Yeah! Like you can say something! I ate my brain, it was down in my stomach who now thinks instead of the head. And I continued… To do everything, with that body, without thinking, without purpose (if again, there is one). Who did I harm anyways?!
The feeling was weird. In the beginning, those were my own palms that strangled me, so I didn’t defend myself from them, although I felt unease. It did hurt. There were bruises and marks from my nails. But there were no thoughts. And that was so easy. Chain around my neck was easier to bear than any thoughts. And if my hands tried to let go, I would put them back to my neck because that was more sustainable then trying to think. And the feeling got better eventually. I didn’t feel any pain cause I got used to it and because, indeed, I was causing it to myself.
But often I was in a bad mood. It would happen that, when I walk into a club, in half an hour I’d already say hello to almoast all the people there (in city with million people in it!). But could I never just go home and instead I was forsing it, trying to make night better. That never happened of course, and I would walk home feeling empty and angry at myself.
I have lost every touch with reality, and lived in some kind of a dream. Billion of years have passed, eons of time, glaciers were melting and continents disappeared, and I just stud with my body, same body, that thinks only for itself. Always the same thing repeated itself; tasty meal, strong coffee, fragrant palm, pulsing vene, chain that grips tighter but it should! That’s the way it should be! It could have lasted forever. It could have stayed and disappeared with me and come back again in some other me, always, again, reappearing and to be just body, life without living, beeing without needing, sky without air. It could have, and it started to, it already spread its roots, blocked my pores and drowned me with its sugary juice, got sticky, glued onto me and in the end – it felt so good, ah yes, so good. Brain wasn’t there, and who’s not there you can always do without, and even more, it felt wonderful, marvelous! Body enjoyed to be pampered, creamed, bathed, splashed, protected, to be light and seductive! Body was slumping in nights while being struck with orgasams, while sweat sweet as honey was driping down the thighs, and pupils big as moon dilated from euphoria. Ah, it feelt better then anyone can imagine, like spa, seaside, long vacation away from thinking.
I resigned myself to fate.
Knock – knock.
Knock – knock.
Who can that be?
Khm, khm – knock-knock I said.
For Gods sake I don’t have a clue what this is?! Somebody knocking? Somebody coming?
Hey stupid! Knock – knock.
KNOCK – KNOCK.
Obviously I didn’t get it from the start and then I scratched my hair and put a pinky in my mouth to see if biting nails would help me figure out this craziness. And then I felt it under my elbow.
Knock – knock.
The left one.
Knock – knock and again knock – knock., with 60 to 80 beats like that in a minute. Pumping blood. With chambers. Annoying muscle that shivers when it’s not supposed to. Contractions that keep me alive.
Heart where did you come from?! (fake smile). I didn’t know you were here! I forgot that I even had you! Aha, responds the heart, I’m here, got nowhere else to go, maybe you want to eat me too?!
My mouth were really hungry, like always, but my stomach couldn’t cope with it. Too heavy! If the stomach thought with my brain, it couldn’t think with my heart. It was solo. And empty. And waiting. On me.
But sweetheart, I’m in a hurry! Really, I have to, well, show up in a club, do my nails, screw around a little because I’m hungry, think not cause my head hurts so bad these days.
Knock – knock – knock.
Fuck, don’t do that to me!!! I didn’t… I mean I did, but… I don’t know what I did.
Still pounding in my chests. Ooooo fuck….
Just a bit more please! Just to go to the market today, I’m working tomorrow so I don’t have the time, but next week for sure, when I do the things that don’t need to be done.
Whatever. I’m here, waiting. Tick – tack.
I feel sick.
Aha, said the heart calmly.
I feel sick really; in my mouth I feel some mix of sour and bitter taste.
Aha, it continues.
I’m not doing anything to you.
Uh, I feel so bad! Whole stomach is spinning.
Heart smiles with corner of a lip. That’s right.
I can feel it in my throat already. It’s no good. I’m starting to throw up.
Everything falls out. Both my brain and my half digested heart that my lips did try to swallow anyway. I’m throwing up while poisonous spit is dripping down my chin. And more. Gross! The brain is burned by acid and I don’t know if it can function at all.
What a mess! I’m throwing up until my lips turn blue, until all pus and everything I didn’t want to think about comes out, and all thoughts return that I delayed so gladly. I turned green from straining and sweat becomes stinky and cold, grabby fingers are shaking and those thoughts stab me in a back of my head like ice pick. And more! And more! And more! Palms, do come back to my neck! Strangle me! I want to die, or I just wish for death because there I can be on my own again, without brain and thoughts, without need to do something.
I have shivers. I’m dirty and unhappy. Desperate and miserable.
And heart is cheerfully pumping in my chests, yawning and saying: Ah, what a wake up!
I don’t want to think. I’m closing my eyes but it’s no good. It doesn’t help at all.