What the Tomes Say About Humans
Excerpts from my journal entries on feeling like a person. Or the lack thereof.
“Called my friends from home, but it’s still so weird, and I still feel alien around them. I feel alien around everyone. And none of this will ever be enough, it feels like at its worst. Future Cara: please do something with this. Write something. Please.”
“I don’t know what remedy there is. Go bake in the sun like clay, maybe? Like a forgotten tomato behind the fridge?”
“I do not want to feel like a weird cat. On account of: I’m not a weird cat, and cannot obey the standard rules of living by which a community of weird cats abides. It’s inconvenient to feel like you were made to sleep at noon among friends when you were not, in fact, made to do so. A shame.”
“I wish that I could burrow into the ground like a freakish snake or beetle. Or melt. Today when I walked back from lunch, I felt sincerely that I was too rigid a shape; I wished that I could melt into a candlewax form of something snug and new.”
“I have lots to do this weekend. And I feel complicated about most things going on in my life at the moment. For now, all I can do is remember what I have. Bask in it.”
“What I’m learning is that the simpler the joys are, the more refreshing they feel. A warm shower; fresh blankets. I think I’m gonna read through old texts and go to bed. And keep the fairy lights on, and listen to music.”
“I like early Fall, especially this new kind— the kind with friends.”
“I had this dream about the ocean. The very bottom of it. It wasn’t scary— light, and vivid, soft colors. I’m not sure how to describe it, other than: wonderment? Liquid wonderment? It was scary for a bit, and confusing, and overwhelming. But I felt like I was home. I hope that’s a good sign.”
“If I could have anything I wanted in the whole world, I think the answer I’d give would be: a nap on somebody’s shoulder. Gentle weather and expectations. The tension out of my back. Soft lights. Nothing itchy ever again.”
“Today was so full; so good, in the way that’s so ideal it almost makes you sad. The keep-me-here-forever kind.”
“It’s so weird. I feel like it’s impossible to communicate truly ever. The difficulty is worth it.”
“They get it, though. Or, if they don’t, they say they want me exactly as I am anyways.”
“Safety is moss green and low lights. These are the people I care about, and this is a lot of why. It’s reciprocated exactly how I would reciprocate it.”
“How easy it is. Sunflower facing the light. I don’t feel like a bother. It feels silly that I ever thought that at all.”
real
I love the snippets of consciousness, each a snapshot in time. Can't wait for the next one!