_021: 'till the 'morrow.
12 hours from now.
tomorrow, at 12pm. i'll be back to visit those hallways that i tried so desperately to scrub from my past, my mind, my soul for years.
the ones that i've since grown to roam rhythmically, in both my thoughts and dreams but also, as of recent - reality. i've re-familiarised myself with those intersecting corridors in the past few months, the animal-themed lifts and entryways.
level 4 from the Duck or Kangaroo. a right out of the elevator, then down the hallway and take a left (Duck) or right (Kangaroo).
the sea-green, semi-translucent reinforced glass door, shimmering with the faint outlines of sea creatures adorning the inside. all swimming safely - in perpetual slow motion, a moment or two behind time itself - within the door's sleek metal frames.
seeing them again brings back a fragment; being wheeled up to them, half-straining against my mother's grip to sit up in the bed that i was forced into, terrified that i'd gone too far. i just wanted to be healthy, i just wanted to make everyone proud, i just wanted to be enough for everyone else, and even, perhaps... myself.
terrified that i wouldn't be able to undo the mess that i'd made of this body i'd been gifted, that my quickly-ailing soul would never sit quite right within it again.
terrified that my body wasn't the only part of me that was beyond repair.
swearing that i'd never put myself through this again, and everyone else i loved who i ended up dragging down with me.
and now, over 7 years and two trips back later. i have the chance to return, and i will be.
am i as bad as i was?
physically?
no. (well, just - although that shouldn't matter)
mentally?
also no. yet now i know, more than ever, the extent of how deep it's rooted itself within my mind. and i know the full force of what i'm up against, what i have been putting off for the last however many moons.
i'm going back in order to fight it. to uproot it from the core. to pry my weary synapses from the stranglehold grip it's had around them for almost as long as i can remember.
i wish not to kill it with kindness, but subdue it with kindness. it is part of me, after all, and will unfortunately be forever. it has shown me that it can and will die with me - and i don't want to go out with it like that.
but i can't hand it the reigns to the rest of my life any longer and expect to enjoy the ride. i will carry it in some shape or form with me, sure, but i need to be in the driver's seat.
i need to learn how to drive once more.
and you can only do that whilst sitting down.
sweet dreams, kind readers.
~ juni
links & quotes for 3.2.25:
"capitalism has no land left to cultivate but the self. everything is being cannibalized: not just goods and labour, but personality, relationships and attention."
girlhood is much like godhood; much like virtual reality, begging to be believed.
the Young-Girl is not always young; more and more frequently, she is not even female. She is the figure of total integration in a disintegrating social totality...
... one sees within the anorexic young girl, as in the ascetic ideal, this same hatred of the flesh, and the fantasy of reducing oneself to physical purity: the skeleton...
... this young girl suffers from what we could call the "angel complex". she aspires to a perfection that would consist in having no body. anorexia expresses, at the level of the commodity, the most incontinent disgust for them, and for the vulgarity of all wealth....
... she is a body without a soul, dreaming of a soul without a body."
We can't go back, but we can resurrect beautiful ideas from the past, manifesting them anew and reincorporating them into reality.
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