“you probably won’t win if you’re fighting based on principle,” he said.

i didn’t say anything in return, just let his words wash over me in the sudden realization i’d wasted time and money to prove a point that didn’t matter to anyone except me. i swayed between wanting to scream, wanting to cry and feeling immense gratitude, because after all i’d done to avoid the truth here he went and walked me smack into it.

i hung up and hung my head feeling real defeated from fighting myself. it seems the pendulum never stops swinging no matter how many times i dodge left and right. i started cleaning so i could feel more organized then stopped with a jolt, no longer believing anything i’d believed in the day before.

every iteration of me seemed flawed as the food in my mind coagulated and felt like slop. i felt scared, not knowing how to navigate my energy or identify the poisons in my bookshelf and memory. how do you burn books bound to the corpus callosum?

i was a ventriloquist at my own play and for twenty-fours lost my voice.

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