May. 6th, 2009

harbouring: (even after all)
It's just easier to deal in shortcuts:
If I then I so I
I know this because I am that because I said these things because

I leave these huge gaps in diary entries, thinking 'I know the way this sentence ends' and forgetting that eventually I won't, that what's vital now might not be next week. That's why I like things like last.fm, where I can go back and say that for a week in April I listened to The Magnetic Fields and Etta James, and I can pretend that it means a lot. I like looking up things that happened on my birthday, too. I read blogs and look at pictures and know what the weather was like, whichever year it is. It's all just a thread - faint but strong, yellow in my mind - that pulls its own way through things. It's checking on myself, pinning things to my shirt to prove that I'm not just today and it isn't just now that matters.

I don't know - you'd have to tell me - but does everyone think about their body as much as I do? Not in terms of its appearance (can I get another blah for that blah blah blah), more in terms of how strange it is, how quickly and fatally it can falter and fail. I think 'this is my hand' and I rest it on the table, think 'this is my foot' and get the cold-chill soul-dread when I think it should have reached the floor already but it keeps going.

Proprioception is the sense we have of the parts of our body, where they are in relation to one another. It's what they're testing when they ask drunk people to close their eyes and touch their noses. It gets confused, sometimes, like when you're tired (or drunk), or when you wake up after sleeping with your arm above your head and it's all numb and not-where-it-should-be. The brain doesn't know what the body has done with itself.

What a dirty trick to play.

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this little country

May 2009

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