Black and white vintage old broken TV placed on stones near wild river flowing through forest
|

Season 41, Episode 8: Dissociation

ByR. William Parmenter Reading Time: 1 minute

I float the world,
Always the same distance —
Ground to eyes,
Eyes to sky —
A passive subsistence.

Days blur, feelings mute,
Like watching a series,
Drifting through episodes,
Guessing the finale —
Waiting for a twist in the script.

Five Months Since the Release of my Book!

My book has been out in the world for five months! This poem is a selection from the book. As you may have guessed, it is about a typical day where I dissociate from everything around me. I’m floating through the world, not really attached to my body, and watching everything as if I’m watching TV. If you’ve never experienced it, it is a strange sensation.

In recognition of Mental Health Awareness Month, my book is discounted through May. Find it at your favorite place to buy books. You can also ask your local bookstore or library to carry it!

As always, thank you for reading!

Join My Email List

Receive news, updates, and new blog post notifications directly to your inbox.

I promise not to spam or sell your information.

Similar Posts

  • Paper Ball

    ByR. William Parmenter Reading Time: 3 minutes

    This poem is about many things. Manic episodes and depression, self-esteem, confidence, and reworking failed dreams. It’s about trying and failing and trying again. It’s about finding yourself amongst the chaos. I found this poem again after I published my book, Between The Dark and The Light. I’m a little sad that it isn’t in there, but maybe it will end up in a second or special edition — or a completely different book! Recently, I looked at it again while considering what poems I wanted to share on here.

  • Each Place, A Home

    ByR. William Parmenter Reading Time: 2 minutes

    This poem came to me while we were driving across the country. Since we were moving back to our childhood state and homes, I had a lot of that on my mind. For many people like myself, a place you grow up in can grow stagnant and we strive for change, whatever that may be — new places, new people, different views.

  • Wind In The Pines

    ByR. William Parmenter Reading Time: 3 minutes

    This poem came to me as I listened to the wind in the pines. It is a sound I absolutely love next to that of waves. This is one of those poems that I wrote the initial idea down, but then refined it. Words were adjusted and line lengths changed for flow, and as I did that, I noticed something of a linear timeframe forming. So then I considered the first stanza and thought of a way to talk about human history or even a singular life.