My OCD manifests itself as religion.

Every step I make is calculated. I cannot let go of decision or indecision.

As a child, I tried to round off infinity.

Today, I see everything as karmic decisions that are tied into webs, connecting all things.

At night, as a child, I drew numbers with my feet.

I only did things in even numbers.

My dad might have it. He jingle jangles the door when he closes the house for the night. I used to count it when I was a kid, loose door handle making sound in the dark night.

I want a life free of numbers and strings and sequences. I want a life that is not predestined.

They say that just a little handful will cure me, make me see things in the right light. And I worry, will this handful kill my visions? Do I want them? Yes. I want creativity.

Is creativity at the expense of sanity? I always wonder.

Today, my OCD comes out in shakes. In bursts of sentences.

I try and hide it.

Photo - S
Words - S