946 B
weight, date
| weight | date |
|---|---|
| 3 | 2020-06-17 |
I see now.
Are you me?
Am I?
I don't know. I can't tell. I can't tell if you're me, if the adversary is me, if "that third-of-three parts, that part defined by negative space and shadow and blind spots" is me.
I can't tell if hypomanic Madison is me. I can't tell if depressed Madison is me.
Sometimes she feels separate. Depressed Madison, I mean. Sometimes she feels like another person who is doing different things, and I feel trapped up within my head, watching her act--
Or not.
--or not, and I feel like nothing I say or do can get her to change the things she does or does not do. Nothing I say or do can change the way she feels.
The way I feel?
The way she feels when she's fronting?
There is confusion here.
Yes. Confusion borne of new knowledge. What do I do with it? What do I do with these strangely-shaped thoughts?
Talk around them in circles.
Ha ha.
Am I wrong.
No.