MX. WAYNE ENTRY
Maybe better, maybe good, maybe bad. What if I walked into a jungle and tried talking to a bird today? Would that help? What if I put some push-pins on the floor and sit on them? Would that help? No…I’m scared of needles. I want to make garland. I keep wanting to cut out hearts and hang them in my room. I want to walk outside and feel the pavement from the courtyard steps scrape my feet in that way that tickles. It would be smooth and cold. It’s sparkly too. I want to push myself down the stairs and fall upwards. I want to glue a million tiny mirrors to my wall but then I’d have to cover them every night. I want to be meaningless and loved. Loved like nothing. I could hear my heartbeat in the pillow today, it scared me. I want to do something forever. I want to be a fish and swim in cement. I want to be a pretty box that only opens when someone sings to me. What if I make a harp out of my hair? I want to be so sad that I feel like I’m drowning in my bones and blood. When I imagine the blood overflowing in my mouth and staining my teeth, I imagine looking in the mirror and thinking that I am pretty. Maybe somebody sees my red teeth. That would make me happy. What would it feel like to chew some flowers, some sun-dried baby’s-breath like the flowers they use in weddings. I have some in a mug in my room. I don’t remember where I got it from. Can you feel my spine? Do you think if I water my plants with saliva they will grow? Will you open a window for me? It’s getting hot. Can you lock the door now? And close the curtains? I don’t want to look outside anymore.
Do you think it's possible to paint feelings like these? -- or are they possible only in words, because words have subjunctives and optatives?
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