JOURNAL ENTRY: EYEBALL ON THE FLOOR 2026

 

All that my mind’s eye has focused upon is that girls separated eyeball that sits upon the floor in the mop alcove.  That focus has not changed, and it feels like I have a binocular vision upon that one object.  I stand many feet from that spot; I was cautious in my approach knowing that I would regret going further and risk seeing too much.  I did see and the body did not hold my attention as much as that eyeball did.  I am waiting for that eye to become my portal key and eject me from this scene into a quantum leap. 

What’s appearing now: I me walking from between the house of hate and the house on the corner.  I am barely taller than the bushes that we had in front of the den window.  My hand is bleeding and I am scared.  Far more scared that Robert and Glenda would be mad at me but also scared that this would be enough blood pouring out to cause me to die.  It’s my left hand and my right hand is holding it as if this is somehow a protective measure.  I was in the back alley, and I wanted to jump the fence but ended up slicing my hand on some part of the chain-link.  It was the ridge of my hand on the opposite side of my thumb.  There is this collaboration that often occurs in my head and offers me an off-center approach to what I did when.  Meaning that I recalled that I had leapt over this fence with no issue at one time.  Then my mind concluded that I should be able to do it again.  However, that second go around does not work and every time I execute an attempt I fail.  This was a common theme of my young life.  I remember having to cross from Lee Britain Elementary School all the way across the tarmac which was a parking lot for the high school football arena.  It was in the heat of summer, and it was an arduous task.  It took forever and I grew angry because somewhere in my distant thoughts I recalled how I had crossed this tarmac like the wind and ended up on the Bowie Junior High side.  Then another element of this distress occurred when I knew that I had jumped out of the large trees in the backyard and then ran and leapt over the fence.  In my mind I felt that I had done all of that in one fluid motion.  Then one day I leapt out of that tree, and I was shocked by feeling how solid that earth was and then found myself crying on the ground and unable to get up due to the pain in my ankles and knees.  Again, I was confused and angry at myself since I couldn’t figure out how I knew I had done some feat of awesomeness at once in my life and now could not replicate it.