5/22

Lately things have begun to appear as they did when I was a child, or at least how I think I perceived them. Things just seem to appear as they are, a house a house, a cloud a cloud, a place is a place and nothing more unless I think about it too much, or talk about it for too long. 

I don’t know exactly what has brought about this change in perception, most likely it is the antidepressants taking effect. But there’s also a comfort in my own expression, leaving room for thoughts other than obsession. Also a new found friendship and comradery in Kate, and in turn an ease in relation to others. That could all be because of the mirtazapine though, in which case I am at the mercy of a medicine again.

Not that I mind, because I’m not hurting myself anymore. And the daily constant of pill taking and skin keeps me going. It gives me a reason, a way to connect with myself. To place myself spatially and temporally.

The quality of the world is hard to describe, it is full and bright, yet lifeless. Everything is annoyingly simple in its being, there is in fact no greater meaning to everything, and everything just is what it is. It all seems like those childhood memories, or the “saban'' logo that ran at the end of Power Rangers. 

An odd disquiet to everything, a feeling that I’m fine and that everything just is as is but I still feel strange. Maybe a dissatisfaction in the way everything just is. As if I expect to find myself in everything else, as if everything else too has a secret that I can find. 

The world seems to have lost its secrets, and in a way I have lost my own. To get here my soul had to explode from my body in blinding light and blood. Exposing itself to everyone around from here to a place you could call home. Myself became disentangled and uncomplicated, and so the world became the same.