Rounded Apathy
Longing to return to stardust
- Aug 8, 2022
- 772
Because I can write, but cannot draw worth a good god damn.
Lately I've been seeing this image of myself manifesting in my mind and I wish I could give it shape. It's black and white, and I am in silhouette. The edges are slightly fuzzy, as if there's a mist or haze, even when up close. My shape is as usual except that I'm covered in thick quills, spines; like a porcupine, but coming out of all parts of me expect my face. Yet they don't rest with gravity. They're always somewhat pointed out, though they are not so long when at rest, but what you don't see is that they aren't growing out of me – they're all stuck inside of me, just as sharp inside as out. Their "centres" are a few inches outside my skin.
When I'm hurting though - that's the kicker. They grow. They protrude further outward as well as inward. The pain that is usually skin to background noise becomes deafening. Like a human pin cushion covered in double-edged needles, I am limited in my movement because if I'm not careful I'll end up stabbing myself. I want to curl up into a ball but only half-can, lest I completely impale myself on myself and become stuck.
Sometimes I do curl a little too much because it just hurts so much, and nick myself with a few more spines, because the comfort outweighs the small bit of extra pain that comes from the position. And most of the time, when the spines subside to their usual size and position, they come out just fine. But sometimes they break off at the tip and it stays behind; the old one regains it's shape, but now there's a new quill in a spot there wasn't before, which soon grows to the size of the others. Yet another minor injury that became a permanent source of pain.
Ending on a lighter note: iPhone swipe keyboard was really sure I wanted to write "impala" back there…
Lately I've been seeing this image of myself manifesting in my mind and I wish I could give it shape. It's black and white, and I am in silhouette. The edges are slightly fuzzy, as if there's a mist or haze, even when up close. My shape is as usual except that I'm covered in thick quills, spines; like a porcupine, but coming out of all parts of me expect my face. Yet they don't rest with gravity. They're always somewhat pointed out, though they are not so long when at rest, but what you don't see is that they aren't growing out of me – they're all stuck inside of me, just as sharp inside as out. Their "centres" are a few inches outside my skin.
When I'm hurting though - that's the kicker. They grow. They protrude further outward as well as inward. The pain that is usually skin to background noise becomes deafening. Like a human pin cushion covered in double-edged needles, I am limited in my movement because if I'm not careful I'll end up stabbing myself. I want to curl up into a ball but only half-can, lest I completely impale myself on myself and become stuck.
Sometimes I do curl a little too much because it just hurts so much, and nick myself with a few more spines, because the comfort outweighs the small bit of extra pain that comes from the position. And most of the time, when the spines subside to their usual size and position, they come out just fine. But sometimes they break off at the tip and it stays behind; the old one regains it's shape, but now there's a new quill in a spot there wasn't before, which soon grows to the size of the others. Yet another minor injury that became a permanent source of pain.
Ending on a lighter note: iPhone swipe keyboard was really sure I wanted to write "impala" back there…
