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<h1>Zk | first-pass</h1>
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<p>The itch on my palms is not a real itch, and yet all the same, it demands to be scratched. I can scrub my paws down over my front or rub them over my thighs and gain momentary relief, but it will always come back when tensions run high.</p>
<p>Many things will plague me when tensions run high. I will tic — a jerk of the head to the side with a squeak or a yelp or a quiet grunt. I will pace in an abbreviated line, my steps spelling out an ellipsis. My stammer will get ever worse.</p>
<p>I maintain that these are an integral part of me, that I will never strive to rid myself of them. I say to myself that I will never cease pacing, that my tics are a form of communication, that scrubbing my paws over my tunic or trousers is simply a part of the way that I live. I promise myself — and you, whoever you are — that I will not elide my stammering. When tensions are running high, these are cemented within me as a part of my existence.</p>
<p>Tensions are running high.</p>
<p>I am supposed to be calm. Relaxed. Professional. I am supposed to do anything other than scrub my paws over my front and fidget with the hem of my tunic or visibly restrain myself from pacing. I am not supposed to yelp or squeak in the middle of someone speaking — least of all Rav From Whence! — and I am definitely not supposed to scuttle off stage to go lay down on the cushion I keep beneath my desk for high-anxiety moments such as these.</p>
<p>I explain to myself and to others that the entire reason that I exist is to outlive the part of me that speaks in should-statements. I am not supposed to do any of these things, but &lsquo;suppose&rsquo; is a &lsquo;should&rsquo; in disguise. Reframe it: &ldquo;I should not do–&rdquo; </p>
<p>No.</p>
<p>I exist specifically to kill that version of What Right Have I. The whole reason that I <em>am</em> What Right Have I of the Ode clade and no longer am I From Whence Do I Call Out is because Rav From Whence knew that at least some part of her, some <em>version</em> of her should exist specifically to revel in unmasking.</p>
<p>We are a revelrous clade.</p>
<p>We are all hedonists, in our way. Conscientious hedonists, mind: we believe that <em>all</em> deserve revelry in that which is good, but simply that we, too, are included in that &lsquo;all&rsquo;.</p>
<p>Some revel in the hedonism of play, or the hedonism of creating, or the hedonism of food, of drink, of drugs. Some revel in the hedonism of naught: No Unknowable Spaces Echo My Words dreams of death and the lack of life, and to her, such is a joy. Unknowable Spaces&rsquo;s up-tree Before Whom Do I Kneel, Contrite dreams of the very lack of a sense of self, and to it, such is a joy.</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2024-10-27</p>
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