What's it like

it really is like T.V.---you really do stand for an hour at the kitchen sink and stare out the window while the dog loses her bladder, whining to be let out.

you really do become confused at the realization that your shirt collar is soaking wet and your lips chapped and salty---you've been crying. no guessing as to how long, or why.

you really do forget where you are, how you got there, what you're doing, where you're going, why you're going there, why you're going anywhere. you forget your name, your phone number, your bank PIN, your wallet.

you really do touch objects---candles, the wall, a rag, a coffee mug---as if they might understand. you caress them softly, absently.

everything really does break down into component parts. colors. smells. shapes. nothing makes any particular, recognizable sense.

all those commercials on television. all the made-for-tv-movies. it's not really an exaggeration. you really do slip away. at your desk. at the dinner table. in your car.