FULL

Опубликовано: 29 Ноябрь 2023
на канале: Luis Cuevas

240

Full (Turning 30)

Inspired by Big Sur location and Book by Jack Kerouac,

I spent the days of my youth staring out of windows, windows in shapes I couldn't put myself through. A world out there I can't walk myself through. And for all those days, at least I had a song to keep me full. I'm not scared. I'm terrified of my future because I can't find myself in pictures, movies, or books.

Kerouac Said, “The mental anguish is so intense that you feel you have betrayed your very birth. The efforts, nay the birth pangs of your mother when she bore you and delivered you to the world, you betrayed every effort your father made to feed you and raise you and make you strong, and my God even educate you for life you feel a guilt so deep you identify yourself with the devil, and God seems far away, abandoning you to your silliness you feel sick in the greatest sense of the word breathing without believing in it sicksicksic

I asked Elsa how she felt when she turned 30. She said she couldn't remember. I hope 50 years from now, this dreary, swollen feeling gets pissed out. I know I'm not empty, but I sometimes feel that way. It's deep sometimes. It's superficial, self-inflicted torture. I'm trying to change my tune and sing a different song. I don't want to be anymore; I want to turn horror inside out—the only horrific thing around me is the sea.

Like waves in and out of self, I got dragged out by Destiny, an invitation to rot out in the open. Like one of these waves tumbling horrific thunderous punches into the earth until it crumbles miles off this narrow suicide road back into its tummy. Full. Heavy. Hungry sea. What can't it devour? A year ago this wave and crashing of feelings made me sad. Now I understand. If you can't wish me a happy birthday. It's okay. I forget things too.

I got my mind made up, and I'm gonna be intentional. No more feather in the wind. I've had some time off and I've done everything I could to not do what I want to do. But those things, they fill me like cinema. A great cup of matcha turns me on as much as a good film.

In a world of instant sex, instant gratification, instant coffee. How many instances of fullness do you know? How many times have you let yourself die trying to control it? The binges I can't have enough of this world. What it offers I take. What it wants from me I hide.

The sea is saying something from Jaxk that I do understand. But his translation doesn't help me any maybe I don't drink enough to understand. It's so cold but somehow whatever its saying helps keep me warm. Helps build me whole. Like a buffet, endless satiety. I don't want to eat beauty anymore.

My brothers called me wishes me a full life. My mother texts me that without me shed die.

This beauty agitates my heart, spikes my adrenaline, and makes me dizzy. I walk down the street get some fresh air in me. People out and about, I realize everybody is just living their lives quietly but it'd only me that's insane.

I have to open my eyes to why God put me here. I can't keep staring at the floor hoping it won't open up below me, swallow me whole.

Sea, I'm coming home, failing body, disheveled soul. Will you let me near you, I'm scared you might eat me whole. Not like others you've met, but I'm alive even though I smell like I'm dead. I'm happy, I am, even though my eyes look like I've wept. Are you hearing me ocean? Waves like thunder exploding, eternally in a war with the earth.

You know sea and all. Treacherous turning, whirling, curving road and all. I will be 30 for a year and a year from now 31. I'll wake up in my little room, with hundreds of books and all I've decided to cherish and keep for my sake. Not all of it important, but all of it mines. I'll wiggle my toes and let blood rush to my fingers to mark me alive. I’ll stand in the middle of my room in between piles of sneakers and stretch my arms to the sky. I'll drop my hands to touch my toes and internally I will complain about how much flexibility I lack early in the morning. I'll walk into a coffee shop wide-eyed. I'll order a matcha, iced with oat milk. I'll hike up Griffith until my calves thump senselessly. I'll watch a film that I declare irrelevant or a masterpiece. I'll walk miles on miles upon concrete. I'll arrive home tired, my mom telling me about her day at work. Any gossip or dream she wants me to know. Any nightmare or problem she wants me to solve. I'll try to be there. I'll try and listen. I'll walk into my sisters room annoy her with my presence, but I just want her to know that I'm there. I'll sigh at her teenage indifference, slip into my room crawling over sneakers and books to fall flat into my bed. I'll roll around restless for a minute or two. I will grab my ailing shoulder for a minute or two. I'll dread work. I'll dread my dreams. I'll dread nightmares. I'll dread decisions. I'll close my eyes.

There is no need to think another word.