Saturday, August 20, 2011

Satia Sampler Saturday

I spent most of this week either being sick or fighting back sickness so I didn't do much writing.  I added an informational page to another blog but that was the day I got sick and between then and now nothing of significance.  Therefore, I am digging into my archives and I pulled out this experimental piece I did a while ago.  Since there was some confusion about whether what I posted last week was rooted in my own reality, let me state for the record that I am not diagnosed schizophrenic and any resemblance between myself and this person is merely within your own interpretation and perhaps more rooted in your reality than my own.  

You feel it begin as an itch beneath your skin.  A sensation that tingle and tickles but lies too deep to scratch.  You try to ignore it, think you will learn to ignore it, but there is no ignorance and no bliss.  Just this.

In your advanced high school literature class they had you read The Yellow Wallpaper and you remember thinking you understood the woman crawling behind the wallpaper, the madness in the walls.  But you knew your walls were different, stronger, impenetrable.  Until the skin crawled and you knew too late too late your fate here lying just skin deep just deep enough to be hid but not rid of.

You shower to cleanse away the crawling, water sloughing away the dead skin cells.  Naked you emerge and dry yourself with clean towels that you immediately toss into the washing machine, retrieving a new set from the endless stack you keep, a steady rotation of fresh white towels.  Bleached white and when they begin to yellow they follow the fate of their fellow white towels and are tossed down the incinerator.

Naked you dust everything.  Every morning after you shower you dust because you must rid yourself and your life of the messiness before anyone else can see.  Vacuum to catch what the dusting leaves behind then shower again to rid flesh of anything clinging.  You dry with clean towels and toss into the washing machine before you dress in the same black and black on black.

As I said, this one was highly experimental.  First nearly 250 of an eight page short story.  Hope you enjoyed it.  

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