March 11, 2011

I spend too much time wondering if other people wonder if they’re crazy. If other people sometimes scare themselves when they are alone in their homes. Am I the only one who sometimes finds it impossible to sleep because I’m too busy picturing yards of dark red and light blue threads unspooling from the tiny holes in my eyelids, the ones eyelashes grow out of? I wonder whether others let loose sounds they didn’t plan to, never imagined or expected them taking shape within the wet walls of their lungs. Do other people’s bodies occasionally capsize or careen into furniture and foundations? Do their limbs briefly turn into violent propellers or severed electrical cords without warning?

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