Out of my Skin

Do you think Stalagmites got their name because they are stagnant? But they are not stagnant. They are always dripping and forming and growing. I have this wild feeling inside of me. A need to break structure and rules. A desire to stretch and roar and run and be stark naked in the streets. I don’t know what that is but I can give voice to it. I’ve been living and surviving by structure, intermittent fasting, journaling, working, cooking, working out, like an obedient human. But I want to break free of all of that today. I want to come up with ideas for this brief yes, but I want them to be borderline. I don’t care if my roots are growing in and my eyelashes are gone and I’m wearing stretched out everything. What do I care about when I start to break my own rules? It’s frightening. Will I delineate into depression? An inconsolable living death? My face stoic and expressionless as I lay sinking into the couch? Does everything have to be so dramatic? Can’t I just put pants on and go to work today? It seems like I create epic internal distraction in order to avoid the discomfort of doing everyday things. Normal things. Things that don’t thrill me. But all of us are not being thrilled right now. They say boring people get bored. Do crazy people get crazy? I want to jump outside of myself. Have eighteen espressos and sprint for miles. It’s a last ditch effort to avoid the onslaught of sleepiness.