I cannot determine if this buzzing is from the computer or the camera generator but it is there. Every morning, he thinks this sound gets to me but I treat it like white noise. After all, what can one do but find an alternative to being effected, potentially irritated. Irritation never feels too good so the secret is to find an alternative. Lately, this “white noise” has been fluctuating in tone as if it wants greater attention. I thought I would take a moment to acknowledge its existence.
My arms are bare even though room temperature is “casual”. It seems as though I am radiating some heat. Graphically, there are flames extending from my body, head to toe. A slight pain is still existent within my rib cage or chest area- it feels like I cannot breathe enough regardless of how hard I cognitively try doing so. I recall talking to her about this pain; it would be relieving to mention it to someone but apart from “white noise”, I am solo.
Unless ~
I was to give everything life as it rightfully deserves to have (although, I am no one capable of this). The pharmacy card, unlabeled binders, aged boom box, cheap bulletin board, crumpled note, and everything else. This way, I would have more life within life, unlimited social company, and not to mention, the extreme lack of privacy- no thank you. Now that I have quarterly aligned with the “here”, perhaps, it is not a sin to drift backwards to earlier on in my day.
Rewind.
As I shouted, “How dare you?!”, I did not realize the heavy ego dispersed within my words the other day. The question truly is why am I not susceptible to accusation? While preaching about the subconscious/unconscious self to others, I seem to have forgotten I was equally able to screw up unintentionally, and guilty of blame. Of course, one can point a finger at my words, actions, and behaviors if perceived as unacceptable. Society is not obligated to credit my personal improvements as if I contributed to their lives, as if I did them a favor.
Of course, I was questionable. Placing a wall between questions and myself only reinforced isolation from society, mindless ignorance, and fear of criticism. How much would I suffer by standing still for a moment or two and attentively responding to those I consider my own, to those who prompt self-reflection, to those whose needs are my responsibility? Avoiding the stance of accountability meant I placed myself within a hierarchy, above those I love most.