Somebody once said that the way to become somebody's god is to disappear. And while that notion has stuck with me for its sheer dude that's so poetically beautiful it has to be true-ness, I'm afraid it's not. Because I am a master disappear-er, never saying goodbye at parties but choosing instead to slip out the door, driving away. And here, these last few weeks or months, I have slipped away and into dimensional life wearing 2-D glasses. Quietly, no kiss-kiss. Just this. Not that I want to be anybody’s god anyway, somebody somewhere always calling your name in vain and otherwise, like in bed, in the moment--how uncomfortable would that be? I just want to be me again.
Remember when I used to think thoughts other than I can’t breathe, my nose is so stuffed up, 31 weeks and ohmygodmyvaginabonehurts?
I don’t know what this photo has to do with anything here but it reminds me of something, you know?