Sometimes my own skin feels so uncomfortable – unbearable. I am covered in it. I can’t stand to sit in it. I can’t stand to wade through life in this ill-fitting vessel.
It has not equipped me with the proper accouterments to enjoy the spectrum of life. I am limited.
I cannot fly above the water, nor live beneath it. Even though everything in my self tells me I AM IT.
Fluid motions roll through my mind, over my heart in deep currents that move me from one act to another, on the crest and ebb of feeling.
We should be the same. I am separated, you see.
Because all I want to do is become – a part of. I want these boundaries fluid; to melt into.
I don’t just want to touch the world; a flat meeting of charges that push away from each other – no. I want to meld.
Skin is a restriction – a harm when it finally gives, and then only the outside can reach in and you cannot reach out. I stretch and expect to stretch forever. My skin shakes in restraint.
There is a constant upset, a nausea, a tensing – I drift. My mind is so far away from this.
I cannot stand these limitations.
Aches to grow outward – seeking. It is dissipating and disappointed in the body’s inability to follow suit.
– Jaime Dyna La Mondain