Bone Talk

Every time I hear people laughing I know they are laughing at me. I don’t just think that they are laughing at me I know it – I know it in my bones. My bones are resonating with the deep-down knowledge of what’s going on; my bones are telling me what my situation is. Do you know that feeling when your very bones pick up and resonate with certain key truths about your situation? The world is full of lies and deceptions but your bones will always pick up the truth. The long bones are the best at this I’ve found – the femur and the humerus. Life can be so confusing, so full of harsh mixed-up vibrations like some kind of crazy circus but what I’ve learned to do is tune into my bones and listen to what they are telling me. I’ll hear them tapping out a message to me like Morse code issuing forth slow and steady from deep inside me. Sometimes it even sounds like my bones are groaning in some deep subsonic way; they are groaning out under the stress of the terrible suffering that I’m under like steel girders that are on the very point of giving way under the pressure of the weight that they’re bearing. My bones groan out messages that are too painful to take on board but I can’t help hearing them I can’t ignore what they’re telling me it’s like hearing two giant icebergs colliding in the night and scraping slowly off each other it’s an awful juddering subterranean sound as if the very depths of the earth were talking to me. The pain has become so great that the very bones of my body have been driven to break their usual silence and tell me about it in the most dreadfully frightening tones. The fact that they are talking to me is itself frightening because I know that the message they have to tell me must be grim beyond anything I could ever imagine. It’s as if the earth itself were talking to me in the most terrible sombre tones. I don’t want to be hearing it. It’s like a deep grating sound more felt than heard and I am full of fear as I hear it. I am too weak to hear these words. I’m not a strong enough person. It’s as if long sentences are being slowly ground out but I keep losing focus. I can almost hear what is being said but not quite. My attention isn’t good enough – it’s all frayed at the edges coming gradually undone. There’s too much static in the air too much raucous reverberating discordant chaotic noise going on pulling at my attention from all directions ripping it at the edges pulling and tearing at it. Painfully I try to make sense of what my bones are telling me but the sense of it eludes me every time. I have become a deteriorated person, a deteriorated human being like a flag made of torn rags flapping frantically in a hurricane. I have no friends I think to myself sadly. I have no friends because everyone can see me for what I am. People look the other way when they see me coming. Even the unclean spirits hate and despise me for what I have allowed myself to become. Across the street in the doorways of shops and cafes I can hear voices laughing and I know they are laughing at me.

 

 

 

 

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