Attachment

It's that pit in the bottom of your stomach. I have this feeling that I cannot remove. This downright, immersed feeling. Sometimes its hits me like a shit ton of bricks, blindsided by this circling, resurfacing, generation of energy. It can be in one expression, one glance, one pulse. Or come creeping at night or over a long period of time. I look at it and I know. I feel it so hard that I question everything about it. Every motive. I simply deteriorate it and degrade it down, as if it cannot be true. Or possibly real. What in the hell does anyone deserve anyways. Someone once told me that we were already winning because we were born white and in America. I think we're losing. I wish I saw life for the rawness that it is. For its survival. I wish someone would smack me and scream in my face: LOOK AT ALL OF THIS POSITIVE SHIT ALL AROUND YOU. And then some little switch far off in my brain would click. And I would be normal. You keep me grounded in no way anyone ever has.