Losing Touch | Juxtapositioning
My beloved and I had an argument-thing today. It was brief. The gist was this: I interrupt him. Often. Multiple times a day. And I am unaware of doing it. This is, of course, Not Good. It is a sign that my brain is not functioning as per normal. We parsed the offending conversation, down to (what seemed like) the nanosecond. This is what happened during The Interruption: He talked. He paused. Then my talking-machinery ground into action, causing me to talk. Meanwhile, he was still talking, but I had no idea he was still talking. Oops. Interruptus Maximus. Evidently this kind of thing happens All The Time. I am losing touch. Another sign I am (or have been for a while) losing touch is this: Many days feel dreamlike. In the evenings I only dimly recall what the mornings were like. The day feels like a cloud, a haze, a soft pillowy marshmallow of time. This is not unenjoyable for me. Not long ago, I sat in a warm bath and channeled about how I experience reality while my