things inside other things
you’ve heard of lemon inside water. but i found out that you can also put cucumber inside water. it is just heavenly. and i think that probably the infusion is happening from the cells I have cleaved at the precipice, at the now-border between cucumber and water, spilling freshness all over the place
but i wonder about all of the cells inside the border. are they safe from the water? or maybe osmosis is happening?
i am now inside my house. i have not been sleeping well, and I think it is because i do not feel safe inside my house. my landlord installed surveillance cameras outside my house, which you’d think would make me feel safer, but they used the footage from them to support a strongly worded email about my friend I was having over for a few days.
is it my house if I don’t get to decide what goes in it? i’m not even drilling holes in the walls, i’m just inhabiting, transiently, like everything (except holes i guess).
and so now I’m having stress dreams. in my dreams i’m behind deadline. in my dreams I have to earn your love. in my dreams i’m not enough, and i wake up and i find out that it’s true, basically, by nobody’s account but my own.
earlier my fingers escaped me, and i typed “i do not feel safe inside myself” by mistake, but I think that’s probably also true. and I’m embarassed by this, because where else am I supposed to go?
i often wish that my body were causing me fewer problems. if only i did not require furniture. if only sounds did not bother me so much. if only i could get where i wanted to go, inside a different vehicle.
yesterday i was thinking about cycles. how woman experiences the world through an ever-changing vessel, while man chases consistency and the grind. the tune of capitalism, or whatever.
cycles do not work well with capitalism. money never sleeps.
when I first learned about the transhumanists, i read their manifestos on how death was unnatural, unbeautiful, an ugly mistake of the universe. that a human soul and life was a gorgeous gorgeous thing that we should never have to bear the end of.
around then, it actually had not occurred to me that everyone is most likely a little bit wrong all the time. when smart people say things vehemently it can be very compelling. and until i started reading blogs i had not been exposed to such a concentration of very smart people who were alive and agreeing with each other. anyway, this is just to say that -
lately, when my bus passes a hill dotted with gravestones, i feel some kind of communion. a snow-haired psychic mentions casually to us that her time is coming. i remember how you used to be, and try to remember that you’ll never be like this again. i learn to notice my seasons, and i feel more in tune, and at the store i buy chocolate and miso soup for the girl who will want them in three weeks. i haven’t been in this city long enough to miss fall, but i know i will. to be obsessed with stasis is to reject the way of the universe.