I took a pretty intense bath in the woods.
I stood up
and the water rushed out of my body,
my eyes, vagina, nose,
I’m kidding, it was normal, it was a normal bath.
I am doing a lot of research here, though.
It is all for the horror film I’m making
about finding peace.
Submerged in bathwater—
when you stop exhaling furiously through your nose
for fear of how horizontal you are—
there is a lot to hear.
This is scary and familiar.
This is the soundtrack for my film.
In the morning,
walking out barefoot in my underwear to get the mail,
I feel I am walking towards myself
and take note of it,
like, for character research.
When the main character is alone
she is walking towards herself
and she knows exactly where she is.
So I guess she is both the protagonist, you know,
and also the killer,
sort of stalking herself all week,
keeping internal tabs on accident.
Like, the more in touch she gets with herself
the more danger she is in
because she knows her own whereabouts
and can’t really hide at all.
Some of the footage I have taken includes:
a couple interviews I conducted with myself,
and then just
whole minutes of black—
but for a little red light
appearing and disappearing,
attached to a black dogs neck.
Maybe that is all a horror movie is:
When a girl does not want to be a caretaker anymore…
How she is realizing who she is when she’s alone…
That something turns on inside her
when the dog walks into the bushes
and its light goes out.
That for a moment she finds herself
hoping it won’t turn back on.
I do know what it is like to be a boy, though, because sometimes at work I change the big bottle in the water cooler for a girl who can’t lift it and I feel really turned on and confused and then we stand next to each other, drinking water out of tiny paper cups, while in my mind I crush her boyfriend with my car this is totally normal I’m sure all women relate oh my god I’m gay.
I feel like that might be a sexual term.
Almost all of what I do is accidental.
At the introductory dinner I forgot
I wasn’t in my anonymous 12-step program
so when Melissa said, “I’m Melissa,” I said, “Hi, Melissa.”
I did this to Josh and Catherine as well before realizing
how out of context over-zealous and lonely I seemed.
To make things worse, the realization struck me as pretty funny
so all of a sudden, in a choking burst, I spat my water up laughing.
This is more or less the story of how I find myself very frequently alone.
I think that if Floater is a sexual term
it most likely refers to the Mormon penchant
for inserting the penis slowly and calmly
into the vagina and just staying there for a while.
It is interesting to me how everybody’s trying to have sex
on their own terms and with such purpose. I spill seeds
on the earth whenever, I’m a total birdophile.
There was a time when I declined
to have sexual intercourse for six months
and that time is right now.
Chessy Normile is a poet and video artist who lives in Brooklyn, NY. www.chessynormile.com