#158: “It Begins Again”

Writhing. Wriggling. No comfortable positions. Inhale. Exhale. This will pass. This must pass. All cries abate. That is to say they stop. It’s going to stop, I know that well: I can feel it. They’re going to abandon me. Leave me. Devour me.

There is nowhere but here. This circuit. This jurisdiction. This Sisyphean endeavor. I must go on.

It stirs. Everything in motion. Ebbing. Relenting. A brief intermezzo. Deep breaths. Euphoria.

If only I could give up. Before it begins, before it begins again. These stones are not in my pocket but they move around nonetheless. They move around me without my say so. Without my permission. Against my will. My body but at the same time not mine.

Another spasm. It begins again.