Continuing my desire to get back to doing things I did before my diagnosis, today is Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS) and the prompt is motion.
Motion draws my eye, a bee at the hummingbird’s favorite trumpet flower pulling down the vine, making it bounce. It’s name? I don’t remember and I won’t look it up because this is stream of consciousness. The focus music I’m listening to to drown out the cow in a can sounding mole deterrents in the yard sounds like a stream, more of a brook, babbling as it tumbles over rocks. In motion. I need to stay in motion. Motion distracts from the itch, the pain, the horrorshow that is my current face, the threat in motion inside me. While I felt stagnant between surgery and treatment the monster was in motion replicating replicants. Now its the pustules in motion replicating from my face down my chest. My first thoughts of motion were how it rhymes with lotion. The motion of applying lotion—which lotion? Where’s my Eucerin lotion? My aloe?—is a new obsession. I’ve never liked lotion, no matter how non-oily it says it is, it feels sticky-icky to me, but that’s nothing compared to constant burning-itchy. Strange how quickly life-long dislikes don’t matter in times of survival. The scale of needs-must always in motion leaves me swirling in the surreal. A boat went by. The lake is in motion. Waves rippling to both sides from center. Rain droplets radiate their own waves in, on, and around them. Now the waves are bouncing back from shore at angles. I love being in the rain yet separate from it in this covered porch, like watching a play, safe in the seats while the actors are in motion during a scene change. The false walls turn and we’re all transported to another world.
A very moving SOC all the more powerful because it’s your vulnerability shared. ❤️
Thank you.