back to chaos again

In bed now after a day of OUT! It was a day of mania around the people who make me manic and solace around those who make me chill. Always this in and out, in to mania and to chill. In and out of what exactly? Chaos—the voluptuous garden from which I’ve built the last six months’ predominant thought spiral. I cannot ignore her presence anymore, she forces my hands to the randomness with which I submit to compulsion or control. But I’m sick of control and I’m sick. I’m sick of being the mother of situation. I wish for once I could be simple sick again, the kind that entailed matzo ball soup or waking up with a crusty right eye. Watching cartoons and eating chicken and rice cause I danced for too long in the rain or went in the pool less than an hour after eating. I wish people would believe me again when I claim illness due to wives’ tale. Omniscient death; Franny wouldn’t explain it to me but I know it to be true. I spend my time living outside the reality of moments shifting into new moments in order to really hold myself inside the knowledge of omniscient death everyday. I wish to hold myself in the knowledge of perpetual chaos. 

Sometimes I get these flashes of thought that embrace my mind with the phrase this moment is holy. Until now I thought that interjection was a part of me imploring me to be present, but now I think it is interchangeable with the true hopelessness of omniscient death. It is the true presence of hopelessness which gives no future to live for and only a nowness with which to catch each moment as it falls, for there is nothing else. All of these things—presence, chaos, hopelessness, entropy, and omniscient death are becoming the same to me. I’m realizing they all point me to the same thing. I just have to figure out what that is.