Saturday, June 02, 2018

Crippled self

I surrendered to the urge to pick my feet and picked them to the point of stinging pain when stepped on. I've put on two pairs of socks for buffering against pain and picking. 

Hilariously, before I started, my super flat feet had each bare footedly stood on a rock upthrust from the ground or path, which for a heavyset person meant lots of physics and lots of pain. I had not trodden barefooted on upthrust rocks in the longest time and it happened, on my concrete path or grassed sides, to each foot in a single leg span. I landed on the second stone with the second foot after hopping about from the hit to the first foot.

Then my fucked up brain, feeling the throb of the stone strikes later that night, had at the spots until ribbons of skin were ripped away. I can't ride today, even two pairs of socks can't alleviate the pain of each step. And I have to accept that I failed again to stop myself from finding solace in hurting me.

Fucked up body meets fucked up mind. If there was something else in addition to that, such as a soul that exists on a parallel plane that uses your physical being to project into this universe then that's fucked up too.

Maybe this double limp, like the bloodied slipper, will remind me of the consequences of my actions? That the weird relief in scraping skin from your super flat soles has real world consequences for agility and stability of self.

That would be nice; to learn and keep the lesson. Here's "hopping" I do.

No comments:

Post a Comment

No comments needed, really.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.