What it feels like to grow



Makes me feel out of sorts, like when I wake up in a hotel room and I don’t know where I am for a second or two, and I sit up panic-eyed searching for a scrap of recognition.

Makes me feel exhilarated about nothing special, like when I’m taking the tram home, listening to Aphex Twin on my old ipod, and people look beautiful just standing there waiting, one arm up holding a hand grip.

Makes me feel insecure, like when I write something that feels so true, then wonder if I’m just full of myself.

Makes me feel self-tenderness, like when I catch my nakedness in my full-length mirror and realize I’m finally getting cozy in this imperfect flesh vessel, allowing me to experience this holideck we call Earth.

Makes me feel anxious, like whoa what’s happening, where am I going, what is the point, what am I supposed to be, what does life really mean?

Makes me feel clarity, like when humanity’s trickery seems so utterly, hilariously insane.

Makes me feel euphoric, like when I look into the eyes of someone that really loves me and see what they see instead of my own warped self-image that’s been bitch-slapped by my super ego for years on end.

Makes me feel love, and gives me the energy to allow that drop in the bucket make a splash for whoever, whatever – human, kitty, tree.

Makes me hold my intelligence in a big bear hug, and makes me laugh at my own stupidity.

Makes me say fuck it, I’m only human.

Makes me.


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