i remember it like it was yesterday

not waking up with a sudden noise - created by my own shouting thoughts or someone buzzing at the doorhaving a rhythm, a successful and logic succession of steps (tiny ones) towards something, somewhere, someone - anything reallyspeaking for more than 30 minutes without having to pause "excuse me, give me 1 minute" - awkward silence. Either cognition runs away and suddenly I'm lost and needing to recollect all the info and data around me, whispering to the louder voice "I am here, I know this is real, it has been, I am talking about clouds and I was about to say.... Hmm... yeah I remember - yeah, ok - I got this" and/or a quasi-suicidal unconscious effort in swallowing the tongue... for that there's a list of tricks (invisible to most, if not all, if they can't read my mind - I guess I'm safe it that's of any comfort) from #1 to #4 so I can move my head again. Never minding the pain, that's a givennot avoiding the sunshine as if any light will absorb me and make me disappear from myselfthe pain. I should not complain / be quiet / stay still / jump around / shut up / lay down / pop some tablets just because / pop the pills because they're good placebos / pop some tablets because they work / pop anything that might work / pick up the knife and plunge it for distraction / bite your lips until they bleed / let yourself twitch and die / you'll not feel guilt that way / "it was not me, it was the other me - my controls switch hands between some unknown entities within myself" / it's all in my mind / it's not but I should try and convince myself of it / let's go outside in the cold and not feel it / try it / psychosomatic /  rush to ER / "don't do that again" / rinse and repeatthe white page is not frightening, it's very inviting. There are so many options "oh dear oh dear I'm late I'm late" for living so I shatter all the clocks against the wall already damaged by many moons of lonely violence (I look above the screen and I see the only timepiece that survives to this day though it remains without batteries - the only way it can save itself from me)the tempos are more upbeat and the chords are not a daunting invitation for tasting human liquid iron . They're pleasurable, all-seeing in their assurance. they know exactly what I don't know I need, an invasion of privacy I'll always allow - it stays between me... and all the other versions of me (which are not loud by then and I feel whole).  I pay no mind to lateness or restlessnessthe pain, the pain. Equally gone and forgotten. Both (mind/body). They're the hardest to fight and easiest to forget - they come and go so there's only so much I can do about them. Not having any, zero, niente. hashtag somethingboringaboutabeautifullifemy eyes fully cooperate with the brain and words are not just blobs and linesthere's no implosion in sight... not even the faint reminder of the last one that went down"to hear you speak now and hearing you a year ago, love it" - "why?" - "you don't have a clue do you?" - "... I guess so but I am the same." - "I could only hear you between sobs" - "ohhh that's not true" - "maybe one day you'll feel it. You gotta still take it easy, it's a long long jour-" - "- a journey with one too many sunrises.." - "oh shut up, it takes time and you do realise you're doing this all on your own right? You know how amazing that is?" - "no. I hate it. It's not fair really is it?" - "be proud" - "I'll try - won't promise".that was yesterday,a lifetime ago in my chronic lateness*i'll now pop the tablets and die for a while*(#1 relax the jaw #2 close the eyes #3 touch the middle of the top lip with the tip of the tongue #4 make yourself yawn)