your hips are bad

the quaking aspens outside my bedroom window turn gold this time of year. their ivory bark and aching branches remind me of skinless, bony hands. they desperately grip handfuls of pure amber flakes, waving them for my entertainment when the wind blows. it makes my chest ache, just about everything does these days. if the daylight is just right, and i squint my eyes to certain degree it really looks like a hundred skeletal hands, holding a thousand flakes of flawless gold, shivering in november's bitter breath.

yesterday my head hurt so badly i wondered if my brain was finally disinegrating.fed up with all the torture i subject it to.i lay upside down on my bed.bare feet on my pillows,eyes inching toward the window sill.i imagined my brain leaking out through my nostrils, slowly at first and then faster as my nasal passagways were torn open by the torent.my pajamas and bed clothes were soaked in cerebral fluid and eventually my whole head emptied out.i wasted a few minutes of this daydream wondering exactly how much fluid my brain would amount to. a pint? a gallon? i opened my eyes with a clear view of the door and wondered who would find me. i imagined myself still alert and breathing, but in reality if my brain seeped out my nose holes all bodily functions would cease.i wondered how long it would take them to determine the cause of death or recognize the sticky fluid soaking my clothing, as my brain.liquified.

i want to rake a monumentous pile of leaves and jump in it.allow myself to sink down endlessly, to hold on to that feeling of falling i sometimes get before drifting off to sleep.or use to get, before i stopped sleeping without aid.it would be glorious if the pile caught fire.not burning me up or anything(i have problems, but no current death wish) if only for that burning smell i live for in autumn.the addictive scent of wood and the droppings of fall all aflame.what an evening that would be.

i was involved in a brief conversation with several superiors today.they said they wouldn't trade anything to be my age again.they said it gets better, that you find some peace.because its not about looks (it can't be) or your memory (you have none) its about your heart, i don't believe them for a second.i want to, but i can't.i just don't see the next step.i see my future, any idea of getting married, or whatnot as so far off, like it will never actually happen.similar to the thought of graduating high school when you're in eighth grade.in my mind my wedding will be like playing barbies, just pretend.and i'll be terrible at it too because i never owned a single barbie in my life and never really got the big idea.





i am unsettled.people should know better than to dick with my friends.