White Wisdom

My teeth hurt. It’s like my body is reprimanding me for forgetting all the lessons I learnt this year. You’re not supposed to travel back to ignorance once you’re been wise, Alexia. But they hurt, they do, and I just sit here and wonder why.

Because this is what I do. I like question words and hurtling towards answers, and then, because I’m bored or stupid or just in good old-fashioned in denial, I forget, and off I go again, seeking other answers, the same answers, as if I want to be on this road, constantly travelling, never actually reaching any real destination. But it happens anyway, eventually I get somewhere. Every now and then I figure something out and the answer sticks to me, not with velcro or scotch tape, but by seeping into my skin so I can’t forget; there is no emotional surgery for some things.

This is what I do. I think myself into dust. I think so hard that nothing means anything any more. By doing this, something means something all the time, and I am not a pale blue dot bobbing along in the universe. I think so much because it makes me feel real. The again, I think so much that I loop around myself until I am nothing but a ball of knots. It gets to the point where I cannot untie myself and I worry that maybe I am becoming a labyrinth I won’t be able to get out of. I don’t want to need someone with a map or even a god damn flashlight to get me out. I have my own white horse, many of them, on display in the dirty stables of my mouth but if I keep running away into the sunset by myself, one day I’m  going to turn around and realise that I missed the fucking dawn, that it’s the end of the day and I’m all alone just because I insisted on saving myself. Or, worse, realising that I never needed saving. That the only saving I needed was from the very idea that I wasn’t enough to do it myself all along.

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Alexia

I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

9 thoughts on “White Wisdom”

  1. This is me to a tee. It’s bullshit, eh? Sometimes I think it’s OCD. Sometimes I feel that with every thought a piece of my mind has drifted into The Thought Labyrinth, and I lose part of myself. Sometimes I worry that I’ll never get the pieces of my mind back, and therefore will never feel like Me. Ever.

    It’s scary. I’m hoping it’s to do with the Crazy Twenties, and by the time I’m 30 it will start to wane. I don’t know.

    The house in the country is more inviting every day. No wonder I escaped to Melbourne. Now I feel like escaping overseas. It never ends!

    xx

  2. I used to think all the thinking I did made me unique. Now I realise it just messes me up. These days, whenever I feel the urge to think too much, I get up and go find something to do.

    But I know exactly what you mean.

  3. I don’t think enough, it is amazing how many things solve themselves still there are things that don’t those things that keep reoccurring should be taken care of.

  4. and then i think, why think about things at all. really. i wish your writing was in a book that i could pick up and read, i want to read everything on paper!

  5. Nah. Im almost 40 and I’m thinking myself into a ball of yarn. Tangled, tangled, tangled.

    And yeah, all that thinking makes me think I’m such a stupid girl.

    1. I think I assume I’ll be like this when I’m 40 or 50 or whatever; thinking to much is a bit innate. You just learn which thoughts to let loose and which ones to let go, no?

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