wrong familiar

Wake up. Try to get back to sleep. Can’t. Everything’s sick and wrong. Familiar, but you don’t want it to be. Familiar shouldn’t feel like a bad dream, but it does. It’s the wrong familiar.

You want familiar. But you’re stuck in the wrong familiar. A way out? Hope so. But you’re scared of change, even good change.

This is the wrong familiar. Not unfamiliar. Not uncanny. Just familiar. Also wrong.

You make the same circuits every day. That wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t the wrong familiar. You’d love to follow the same circuits if they were the right ones.

You were doing this five years ago. You knew you’d still be doing this five years later, with slight changes. Too slight. You had a headache five years ago. You had a headache five years before that. You have a headache now. You’ll have a headache five years later. You can’t think of your life as a line with marking points. Your life is circular grey slush.

It’s all too heavy. All the textures are wrong. You don’t understand the sounds around you. Your stomach always hurts. Your head always hurts. Your skin is always raw. You never feel clean. Everything’s too rough and sharp. You’re sitting at the wrong end of the table. You have bad thoughts. Horrible thoughts. Part of you. Can’t separate. Damage is done. Can’t do anything right. Head’s a drain blocked with hair, grease, junk, discarded things.

This is the wrong familiar.