New Story: Someone Is Watching Me (3/23)
Someone is watching me. I’m trying to remember this. Not in a paranoid way, but to help me not dissociate. Maybe this is what it feels like to know object permanence. I am still performing, despite knowing that there are things I could do that might go unnoticed by the usual people: I could put a little bit of dead skin on B.’s book; I could practice my silent scream. If I were to do those things, I could keep them to myself, or I could tell someone; either way, they would still have been done, witnessed.
I’m thinking that there’s not a future perfect conditional tense. Wanting for a tense that doesn’t exist, I love that.
On the weekends, when B. works, I feel moorless. Sometimes I watch porn and masturbate. Sometimes I eat candy. I get depressed very quickly. Activities lose meaning, and it’s hard to find solace in books, though sometimes I do. Today, I read some of Alien Daughters Walk Into the Sun in the bath, then continue reading outside of the bath while I wait for the internet to turn back on. I had accidentally unplugged the router when I was moving things around to bring the extension cord into the bathroom, so we could light the room by lamp, rather than using the bright overhead light.
Outside of the bath, I lose attention for the book. I want shut-off.
posted by Lucien Spect @ March 23, 2024
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