Rehearsing for the bends
II. an inevitable translation is taking place in my mind, even though the bliss belongs to no language.
III. I have no desire, nor joy for what I should be doing with my time.
IV. it’s that I need to leave this room, no, I need to abandon this room; ideally, forever.
V. I won’t talk about them at length, but I remember every single dream [where I get jolted with the bends].
VI. I’m pushing myself towards the surface, surrounded by an undeniable lack of light; impossible to photograph.
VII. it took all night and the faint memories of being cursed at to not call you.
VIII. my moody hours don’t equal art; art alone can’t quite encapsulate the whole story anyway.
IX. the tendency to cling to words; slippery, still-born, and simple ones that feel a lot like life.
X. I will never be the same after this... whole... thing, whatever it is.
5 September 2026