Status: Active
à la folie
Memory,
“Do you have close relationships with friends or family?” It was Monday. I never had to come here on Mondays, but Angelica said it was important, and now my head hurt from all these stupid questions.
“No...I-uh...no...” I wasn’t really close to anyone, I didn’t really know what close meant, because I’d never experienced close.
“Does this bother you?”
“I... Don’t know” he scribbled down on his clipboard that lay casually on the end of his desk.
“Do you wish you had close relationships with others?”
“No... Not really” People liked blue too much, and they liked noise and stupid things like the sun and laughing. But some people liked coffee and cigarettes, and had faded green eyes like gems. Once more, he noted something on his clipboard.
“Some people prefer to spend time alone; others prefer to be with people. How would you describe yourself?” A pause as I let myself digest his long-worded question with a mild frown, these questions made me think and I found it uncomfortable because I knew the answers and my brain didn’t hurt and I couldn’t understand why.
“Alone”
“Why is that?”
“People make noise” He paused at that.
“Do you not enjoy conversation?”
“Headaches” the sound of something being written down filled the otherwise silent room.
“Do you frequently choose to do things on your own?”
“Yes”
“What sort of things?”
“Uh...” I didn’t do anything. I didn’t have a hobby, I didn’t draw or play guitar, nor did I sing or take photographs. I just slept, smoked, and drank coffee.
“Thinking” Which doesn’t involve clumsy humans with a loud mouth and hardly a rational thought. Pretermission humans.
“Would it bother you to go a long time without a sexual relationship?” I stiffened up, digging my nails deep into the skin of my waist. Breath. In. Out.
“No” I was 16, I was legal for sex I’m not doing anything wrong. Breathe.
“Does your sex life seem important or could you live without it?”
“I don’t need sex” But I need coffee and cigarettes.
“Do you confide in anyone is not part of your immediate family?” I don’t confide in anyone, I don’t have anything to confide. I didn’t answer his question, favouring the carpet instead.
“How do you react when someone criticizes you?”
“How do you react when someone compliments you?”
His monotone voice was drowning me, like the sea.
The blue sea.
--------------------------------------------
[Abnormal Psychology]
--------------------------------------------
Lesley seems to have forgotten I exist. Which is okay because I don’t want to exist even though he told me not to disappear and he is making me disappear which contradicts what he said so I’ll vanish into nothing and hope no-one remembers me.
Oliver knows I exist, though. He keeps talking to me, asking how I am and if I’m busy. Invited me to ‘hang’ around with him, we don’t do much really; just sit around while he talks. His voice is pretty and nice to listen to, and he doesn’t want me to answer so I can just drift away from him and the world. Oliver told me he likes it when I do that, because I look peaceful and he doesn’t have to worry around me.
Then sometimes he sits close, like Lesley did at the park a long time ago. I’m getting used to his skin but I’d rather not be touching him, the contact makes me feel weird but he enjoys it so I let him have his way. Oliver always wears green too, he told me it was his favourite colour and he thinks it’s beautiful and clear, and that he is proud of his eyes and how they match his dyed hair.
I told him I like green too, and it made him smile lazily and touch my hair. My girl hair. He told me to cut it, because it goes to my shoulder blades and he says I look like a girl. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t hear and now I’m finding it strange how I remember everything.
My head hurts.
Ethan liked my hair. Said he liked something to hang onto. I wonder what he is doing now.
Now my head really hurts. I groan.
“Are you alright?” asks Oliver, breaking off mid-sentence and looking over at me. I shake my head, massaging my fore-head. Why was I thinking so much? God it feels so bad.
Arms. Around me, legs pressing on the side of my hips. Smells like Oliver. I close my eyes, ignoring the burning my mind is convincing me is there at the contact. Everything is dark blue, red, a bit of brown. I open my eyes again, bright green grass, the green arms of a jumper across my waist.
“What do you think about...?” muttered Oliver idly, wrapping the edge of my t-shirt around his finger, the light brush of his skin against my lower stomach making me burn. I think about a lot, or nothing. I don’t know. What do other people think about? The sun? Blue? I think about nothing, and everything. And I don’t know.
“I hardly know who you are, you know. You never tell me things, if you have siblings, what your parents are like, favourite animals, colours places... You don’t even talk about England” His voice was so pretty, I couldn’t help but listen, because when I was listening my headache seemed to dissolve in the noise.
“I...I...” Stop. Stammering. Stop stammering. I uh. I uh. I. I. “Don’t like blue” I swallowed, taking in oxygen “No... Siblings” My throat hurt, too.
“Come on, let’s get you some coffee. You always need that if you’re going to talk” He stood up, his calf’s rubbing against my back in a way that made my whole spine burn. I frowned and stood up, feeling in the oddest sense that I missed something.
I followed Oliver from that park and across streets; occasionally he brushed hands with me just to make sure I was still there. It felt weird, that he wanted me there. Lesley was generally indifferent to if I was there or not.
“Oliver!” his hand was instantly withdrawn from a close distance from mind and I looked up.
Lesley,
And Gerard.
“No...I-uh...no...” I wasn’t really close to anyone, I didn’t really know what close meant, because I’d never experienced close.
“Does this bother you?”
“I... Don’t know” he scribbled down on his clipboard that lay casually on the end of his desk.
“Do you wish you had close relationships with others?”
“No... Not really” People liked blue too much, and they liked noise and stupid things like the sun and laughing. But some people liked coffee and cigarettes, and had faded green eyes like gems. Once more, he noted something on his clipboard.
“Some people prefer to spend time alone; others prefer to be with people. How would you describe yourself?” A pause as I let myself digest his long-worded question with a mild frown, these questions made me think and I found it uncomfortable because I knew the answers and my brain didn’t hurt and I couldn’t understand why.
“Alone”
“Why is that?”
“People make noise” He paused at that.
“Do you not enjoy conversation?”
“Headaches” the sound of something being written down filled the otherwise silent room.
“Do you frequently choose to do things on your own?”
“Yes”
“What sort of things?”
“Uh...” I didn’t do anything. I didn’t have a hobby, I didn’t draw or play guitar, nor did I sing or take photographs. I just slept, smoked, and drank coffee.
“Thinking” Which doesn’t involve clumsy humans with a loud mouth and hardly a rational thought. Pretermission humans.
“Would it bother you to go a long time without a sexual relationship?” I stiffened up, digging my nails deep into the skin of my waist. Breath. In. Out.
“No” I was 16, I was legal for sex I’m not doing anything wrong. Breathe.
“Does your sex life seem important or could you live without it?”
“I don’t need sex” But I need coffee and cigarettes.
“Do you confide in anyone is not part of your immediate family?” I don’t confide in anyone, I don’t have anything to confide. I didn’t answer his question, favouring the carpet instead.
“How do you react when someone criticizes you?”
“How do you react when someone compliments you?”
His monotone voice was drowning me, like the sea.
The blue sea.
--------------------------------------------
[Abnormal Psychology]
--------------------------------------------
Lesley seems to have forgotten I exist. Which is okay because I don’t want to exist even though he told me not to disappear and he is making me disappear which contradicts what he said so I’ll vanish into nothing and hope no-one remembers me.
Oliver knows I exist, though. He keeps talking to me, asking how I am and if I’m busy. Invited me to ‘hang’ around with him, we don’t do much really; just sit around while he talks. His voice is pretty and nice to listen to, and he doesn’t want me to answer so I can just drift away from him and the world. Oliver told me he likes it when I do that, because I look peaceful and he doesn’t have to worry around me.
Then sometimes he sits close, like Lesley did at the park a long time ago. I’m getting used to his skin but I’d rather not be touching him, the contact makes me feel weird but he enjoys it so I let him have his way. Oliver always wears green too, he told me it was his favourite colour and he thinks it’s beautiful and clear, and that he is proud of his eyes and how they match his dyed hair.
I told him I like green too, and it made him smile lazily and touch my hair. My girl hair. He told me to cut it, because it goes to my shoulder blades and he says I look like a girl. Then he mumbled something I couldn’t hear and now I’m finding it strange how I remember everything.
My head hurts.
Ethan liked my hair. Said he liked something to hang onto. I wonder what he is doing now.
Now my head really hurts. I groan.
“Are you alright?” asks Oliver, breaking off mid-sentence and looking over at me. I shake my head, massaging my fore-head. Why was I thinking so much? God it feels so bad.
Arms. Around me, legs pressing on the side of my hips. Smells like Oliver. I close my eyes, ignoring the burning my mind is convincing me is there at the contact. Everything is dark blue, red, a bit of brown. I open my eyes again, bright green grass, the green arms of a jumper across my waist.
“What do you think about...?” muttered Oliver idly, wrapping the edge of my t-shirt around his finger, the light brush of his skin against my lower stomach making me burn. I think about a lot, or nothing. I don’t know. What do other people think about? The sun? Blue? I think about nothing, and everything. And I don’t know.
“I hardly know who you are, you know. You never tell me things, if you have siblings, what your parents are like, favourite animals, colours places... You don’t even talk about England” His voice was so pretty, I couldn’t help but listen, because when I was listening my headache seemed to dissolve in the noise.
“I...I...” Stop. Stammering. Stop stammering. I uh. I uh. I. I. “Don’t like blue” I swallowed, taking in oxygen “No... Siblings” My throat hurt, too.
“Come on, let’s get you some coffee. You always need that if you’re going to talk” He stood up, his calf’s rubbing against my back in a way that made my whole spine burn. I frowned and stood up, feeling in the oddest sense that I missed something.
I followed Oliver from that park and across streets; occasionally he brushed hands with me just to make sure I was still there. It felt weird, that he wanted me there. Lesley was generally indifferent to if I was there or not.
“Oliver!” his hand was instantly withdrawn from a close distance from mind and I looked up.
Lesley,
And Gerard.