Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 67

           NotonlydidIfeelunhesitatingcompassionandunitywitheverythingandeverybody,itwasvaguelyandamusinglystrangeformetowonderhowanybodycouldeverfeelanythingbutthat.IalsofeltmildlycharmedbyallmyoldideasaboutwhoIamandwhatI’mlike.I’mawoman,IcomefromAmerica,I’mtalkative,I’mawriter-allthisfeltsocuteandobsolete.Imaginecrammingyourselfintosuchapunyboxofidentitywhenyoucouldexperienceyourinfinitudeinstead.

           Iwondered,"WhyhaveIbeenchasinghappinessmywholelifewhenblisswasheretheentiretime?"

           Idon’tknowhowlongIhoveredinthismagnificentetherofunionbeforeIhadasuddenurgentthought:"Iwanttoholdontothisexperienceforever!"Andthat’swhenIstartedtotumbleoutofit.Justthosetwolittlewords-Iwant!-andIbegantoslidebacktoearth.Thenmymindstartedtoreallyprotest-No!Idon’twanttoleavehere!-andIslidfurtherstill.

           Iwant!

           Idon’twant!

           Iwant!

           Idon’twant!

           Witheachrepetitionofthosedesperatethoughts,Icouldfeelmyselffallingthroughlayerafterlayerofillusion,likeanaction-comedyherocrashingthroughadozencanvasawningsduringhisfallfromabuilding.Thisreturnofuselesslongingwasbringingmebackagainintomyownsmallborders,myownmortalconfines,mylimitedcomic-stripworld.IwatchedmyegoreturnthewayyouwatchaPolaroidphotodevelop,instant-by-instantgettingclearer-there’stheface,therearethelinesaroundthemouth,therearetheeyebrows-yes,nowitisfinished:thereisapictureofregularoldme

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