so this was something I wrote in Jan 2010, about two weeks before I started dating Brian:
but suddenly, the floor stops moving, the room stops turning, and everything stops wobbling and speckling. now it’s just your own legs and feet and eyes that are jolting around. they hadn’t stopped yet from when they were attempting to make sense of everything else. you so you lose your balance. you lean over and grip onto the bed tightly, as now your body itself begins wobbling. whatever Distortion that existed outside your body in Reality is now creeping into you. it planted itself in your feet and eyes first. and now that it’s got a grip on you, its entering in via your open mouth that’s gasping for air, into your ears (so that’s why you can’t hear anything but a high-pitch buzzing right now), and into your fingers that are digging further into the bed. and you begin falling forward into the bed now. you fight it, locking your elbows tightly, preventing whatever gave you that push from behind from winning. but it’s difficult. it’s like loosing your balance at the edge of a pool when someone gruffly tapped your shoulder. and the scariest part isn’t not knowing who tapped you, but it’s knowing that you can’t swim. but hey, at least the room stopped moving, right? it’s all just you now.
eventually, it all stops. your elbows keep tight enough, you closed your mouth soon enough, and you kept your eyes open to make sure everything was leaving. your body stops wobbling, your head stops floating, and your ears stop screaming. now you’re just exhausted, dizzy. and you think to yourself about how pointless that battle was. because you had already been Distorted today. when you first woke up, you were too long. your hands fell off the top of the bed and onto the floor, and your feet continued on farther than you could see. you body had been dragged outward. even now, sitting at the keyboard, your long fingers are jabbing at keys they’re not supposed to, because they don’t know what to with their extra length. your monkey toes curl and grip at the legs of the chair. you know that if you wanted to, your toes alone could pull the chair out from under your butt. and your abdomen. it has not gotten longer and thinner like your appendages. rather, it’s just increased in size. the bulge of your belly still exists, flopping down over the top rim of your shorts. but at least the flab that normally hangs down beneath your underarms is stretched out today. that’s nice.
and your head is light, empty almost. and all things are thin and fluffy, except your body (with the exception of your hallow skull). and when you walk, someone keeps tapping you. and you know that their tapping shouldn’t be enough to make you lose your balance, but it does. and you get frustrated. because all you wanted was a bottle of water. but it’s a struggling to walk to the kitchen and back again. because someone keeps poking you, and because it’s throwing you off balance. and your little toe stubs into something and you curse. your mother chuckles, because you’re clumsy anway. so you just write it off to her as that: sure, I’m just clumsy. but you know the truth: someone is pushing me. and they need to stop, because it’s difficult for you to walk. but more than anything else, it’s horribly annoying.
you eventually make it back to your room and sit down in your chair. you have work to do. thankfully, it doesn’t require much effort. because most of your effort is going to fighting off that Pusher. yes, it’s not tapping anymore. it’s starting to push. because while sitting in your chair, you feel a lean to the right. you accidentally overcompensate and fall slightly to your left. shaking your head and chuckling (because this whole ordeal really is considerably comical), you right yourself and take in a deep, determined breathe. just as you’re about to begin, the Pusher makes a noise from behind. you zip your around head to see where he’s at, but you’re apparently too slow, because you missed him. your toe starts hurting again. and then you’re where you are now.