Hazy
I know where I am but it’s hazy and I’m not paying attention. The room smells like bleach. It’s covering my feet but does nothing to erase the brown spots on the walls. The spots are small and all over, the floor, the walls. But not really on the ceiling. Water droplets are pelting my skin. They are coming at me from the back and then surrounding me, making it hard to see.
My body is moving mechanically. My limbs move independently, disconnected from my torso. My brain is missing completely. It is searching through files. Endless files, files of different colors, files of different thicknesses, files of different shapes. There are too many files. All irrelevant, all useless, but also all urgent.
I’m in my closet now, sorting clothes. Too many clothes. Yet in reality, I have only 3 options. It would be easier if I knew the shape of my body, but it changes. Ok, I’m back. I’m done with the closet. How long was I there? 30 seconds? 10 minutes? What happened while I was gone? At least I feel accomplished. Have I accomplished anything? What else am I supposed to do? I’m surrounded by old bottles, some are turned upside down. I’ll have to replace them.
I hear the dog barking. Someone must be here. It’s not for me though, so I’ll just stay where I am. No one will find me. No one’s looking for me anyway. Now my hair is falling off my head. I’m watching it wiggle down the wall. I like the shapes it makes but I’ve had enough. My skin is turning in on itself.
So it’s time for me to go.
