feelin spacy

i am not in a writer's space. i am in a weird inner-outer space. it's the lack of sleep. it the kind of space-y-ness that makes you want to cry not because you forgot christine's birthday, not because her passive/agressive sadness has put a crack in your armour, not because you're starting to look and feel sloppy from lack of painfully good exercise, not because you can't remember where you lost your gloves, your camera, your slippers or your tickets for tonight's play. but because when your body forces you to slow down, pushes your self into yourself, you can actually F E E L gravity. you feel the weight of weight. "the unbearable lightness of being," as a famous guy once famously said. it's feathery. it's fragile and a little shaky. it's sure of its unsureness. it's delicate heaviness.

it's heavy.

it's that kind of space.