Damage Control

The moment the glass touches my lips, I enter a portal into another dimension. The person who is writing this, the “me” who I think I am, isn’t able to access the goings-on of the “other dimension” me. She is free to wander this earth as her own entity. I have no control over what she does, what she says, or what she thinks. I shouldn’t be held responsible for her actions, but unfortunately, I will be. It seems her wants and needs are different from mine, based on the little evidence I have of her existence. I have no access to memories of her. When I return to my “me” state of consciousness, I lose her totally. Although, when I say “me” or “I”, I actually I don’t even know who the fuck it is I’m referring to. I am a stranger to myself, in all forms of consciousness.

Mornings are spent searching for clues, I play detective in my own real-life mystery. Always waking up in a panic, it’s a huge relief if I discover that I’m home, in my bed. Blind without my contact lenses, I feel around i…