In an instant, these feelings overwhelm me and tug at my sensibilities. Tug at my reality and distort it. I’m not pulled up to great heights and let go to fall freely. I’m not pulled down flat against the surfaces. I’m pulled sideways. It distorts things in a way that unnerves me. I question what is good for me versus what is bad for me but don’t know the answer. I can’t tell the difference. I question if this is all that there is in my life. Is this enough and if there is more–what and where is it? It’s an impatient feeling–this sideways feeling. The skin on my face tugs sideways and my lips drag across my face like ice cream dripping sideways on a cone. My long hair moves upward and forms into licorice spirals then fans out and goes sideways along with the direction of my face. My clothes flutter and pull on me, tug me, tug at my skin that is oozing along sideways outside of its boundaries and wrapped in clothes, sweat and body heat. Sideways to no particular place just moving there and won’t stop going. My skeleton creaks and tugs sideways following its attachments. My mind is well on its way going sideways and leading this distasteful delicacy. Sideways is a place my mind is always unfamiliar with but has no fear to go. It goes there and stays awhile in this unfamiliar, sideways place putting thoughts in my mind that make no nevermind sense. Senses aflutter and thoughts aclutter going to a place called ‘sideways’. Where all thoughts become skewed and unmatched in their perplexity. Not even my meds can stop this sideways complexity. Hope keeps me afloat as I tip toe above it and watch helplessly from above and then crawl down to observe it from below. Sideways is a middle kind of place. A lonely kind of place. Tryin’ to make it stop or change direction to a more familiar perception instead of sideways which is an undesirable confection.