Archives for: November 2007, 25
Your hands
You try to wash your hands of them; free yourself from the lists. But they keep your life within neat, well-defined limits: controllable. Every action is timetabled, ordered in your head, laid out in advance. It stops you slipping up, losing the plot, so...you swallow pills, wash your hands, bleach floors, check windows, lock the door. You mustn't get sidetracked, check doors again, lock the window, bleach floors, wash your hands again, and again and again till the skin crumbles and your blood runs free into the clear water.