someone send a runner for the feeling that i lost today.

what a weird week, with heartbreak and exhilaration coming in full but equal measures. a year ago i was on a plane. today i'm on a roller coaster. back then, i thought this was exactly what i wanted. but after living it, i wonder if maybe i'm not built for it. the soaring highs - eager girls, tingling drugs, arrogant sunrises - and the blackest lows - searing regret, permanent loneliness and a life's worth of self-loathing - have drawn and quartered and torn me in half. when your lips are numb and you can't feel your feet and she gives you a drag from her cigarette while she touches your shoulder through your new jacket, it's easy to forget what you felt like when you looked at yourself in the mirror that morning. but there is always a reckoning. and gravity always wins.

i watched la haine this weekend, and there was this part that stuck with me. a guy falls off a skyscraper, and at each floor he passes on the way down, he says "so far, so good." but how you fall doesn't matter, it's how you land isn't it? lately i've been thinking "so far, so good" a lot.

but are those my only two choices? a lobotomy or a heart attack? what if i could exercise some sort of control over circumstances and emotions that i can't change? if i can't change it or keep it from happening, then i'll just refuse to feel it. up for two days straight this weekend, my mind and body disconnected, and i stopped feeling. it was the culmination of a life's work for me. for two days i was alive, i could see, i could move, i understood the things that were going on around me, but i didn't feel them. i was a terminator. but it faded. and i was back to where i started, with no more insight than i had when i checked out.