20/8/12

As I move, however calmly, through masses of flesh laden bodies I can no longer process any understanding of spatial relativity; of time; of where exactly it is that I am supposed to be. Every thing, every person, every inch of what surrounds me appears so far from where I stand, as if no matter how close I could get I would not ever be granted the gift of relation - my fingers doomed never to know the surfaces and linear folds of the brick and skin and iron that plague my vision. Sound rings out and I can understand only echos, drowning beneath the chorus of my own existent being, as if the static in my ears were caused by the blood within my veins; my heart against its cavity of bone. All I know, all I can understand, is that I am alive.