It's happening again.
It started about three days ago. Well, it might not have actually begun then, but that's when I first realized something was going on. The sound of my motorcycle engine was somewhat hollow. No that's not quite right. It wasn't just the sound. It was also the feel of the machine; the way it handled. My initial reaction was to blame it on the frostiness of the winter morning air and a little too much to drink the night before. Later on, after a miserable lecture where I was certain that every student was either half asleep or thoroughly confused, I found myself, coffee cup in hand, in front of my computer when the full force of the realization hit me. The shadow days had returned.
Like Robin Williams in Deconstructing Harry I had become fuzzy or somehow not altogether there. The kind of person who casts a faded shadow.
I wonder if you have experienced or can possible imagine what I am talking about?
The air around you is thin yet when you walk through it it covers and smothers like an old, scratchy wool blanket. The cup of coffee in my hand had the acrid flavor and bitterness yet was missing the aroma that makes a Cuban breakfast so appealing.The bristles on my toothbrush have lost their resiliency because they are eradicating plaque on a different existential plane.
I can't explain the way it feels to be standing in a room with other people and to not be able to smell them, feel their presence or hear their words. Voices now have that distant tinny sound like a radio with a damaged speaker.
There is no other way to describe it other than to say that I feel as if I am only half here. So I have to wonder, where is the other half? How did it steal the vibrancy of colors and the tartness of the apple. How do I entice it to return and stay? Tom Robbins once asked a similar question and his answer was to tempt the damned thing with Juniors cheesecake. I am no where near Brooklyn so I am in a bit of a fix.
Time to go for a walk.
6 comments:
"I can't explain the way it feels to be standing in a room with other people and to not be able to smell them, feel their presence or hear their words."
I can: it feels GREAT. Especially not being able to smell them.
You just need to clear your head with anime tentacle porn, preferably starring the hot 14yo Rei.
living shades of grey.
I understand, truly.
Brrrr. Nightmare time.
Don't worry. I haven't felt anything in years. It's a normal part of aging. I think of it as preparation for death; when the time comes, it won't matter, because I won't care at all anymore.
i could send you a new toothbrush if it would help. i'm not in brooklyn either...if i were i;d send the cheesecake.
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