Sunday, October 15, 2006

Day 56

Today.

The juxtaposition between myself and this earth shatteringly, quiet place is quite alarming.

The difference between the noise in my head and the stillness around me makes me want to combust. To yell, to shriek and run around and hiss into their faces, "Can you not see it; can you not see the madness?"

"Why do you not react?"

Instead they just walk around silently like ghosts. Maybe I am the only one who is living? Maybe the rest of them are too numb to feel this murderous existence.

Today I wanted/want to scratch. My head, so busy with that thought, that I came to the beach to sit on the sand and draw and look at the water. And now, as I sit here writing, I worry that my 'friend' will show up, here in front of all these nice, quiet people. The unpredictable friend that might suddenly strip off in front of a priest and swear at a police man or just shout loudly in the ear of a passing old person, so that they might have a heart attack right there on the spot and drop down dead. All flicking tongue, rolling eyes, twitching limbs and pointy fingers.

I twitch, steadily under my skin praying that she won't show up by tapping pencil to paper. She never actually does - show up that is, but I keep expecting her to - and that makes me jumpy. I just keep squashing her down. Down, down, down.

Probably the most scary place the sea - in the depths of the ocean so dark and all consuming, grabbing at you with it's watery limbs. Taunting and daring you to come under - to see what it can see. I wonder if these dark places, the places that people walk into in the depths of dispair, that they hang from, lie over and under are not somehow quite beautiful in the peace that they offer?

I am frustrated that I cannot capture the beautiful melancholia with a pencil. It represents nothing of the depth of emotion.

Funny now the juxtaposition between bleak thoughts and my mother sitting in the Quaker meeting place. All still and quiet and plain.

Oil and water.
Chalk and cheese.
Marshmallows and concrete...

Can't you see it, scrawled all over my face? "Liable to bite. Don't come near."

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