What It Was by Russ Bickerstaff

What It Was by Russ Bickerstaff

I didn’t think that I’ve seen it. But I saw it. And then when I saw it, I didn’t necessarily know what it was. And then when I knew it what it was, I didn’t necessarily know what to do about it. And not necessarily, knowing what to do about it, sort of suggested that I didn’t know what it was. And not knowing what it was suggested that I didn’t necessarily see it. And not necessarily having seen it was kind of the whole problem that I’d run into in the first place. There wasn’t much that I was going to be able to do about that.

I knew it was something that I had to see. I knew that it was something that I had to see to bully you. But in order to see it, I needed to believe it. So there was kind of a problem. Because either it was there or it wasn’t. But I didn’t really know what to do about the fact that I couldn’t either. It was sort of stuck in between two different modes of existence. Neither of which really seem to be going on. Neither of which really seem to be all that significant at the moment.

And I suppose that I really wanted it to exist. But I didn’t really know why there was just some driving desire in the deep and binding need to be able to have this thing be there. But I didn’t know why I didn’t know why it mattered to me so much. And I didn’t know how it was that I was going to be able to deal with the fact that I didn’t know how it was that was going to matter so much to me. But it felt a little strange. I didn’t necessarily know why.

And I suppose I might have been in the middle of something as I was thinking about these things. But I didn’t necessarily know why. I didn’t necessarily know how. I didn’t necessarily know exactly what it was that was going on with respect to so much of what it was that needed to happen at that moment. I mean, I was in the middle of a very busy day. I didn’t necessarily know why. I didn’t necessarily know what it was that was supposed to be going on at that moment. I only knew that things were a little confused.

I felt as though perhaps there was some reason why there was this fascination with that bitch I couldn’t quite connect up with. I’m not sure what it was. But I’m sure that I was trying to figure it out. I mean, after all, it certainly felt like something that I should understand if it was going to be something that I was going to be spending so much time thinking about. And certainly, didn’t want to spend so much of my time thinking about it. I didn’t want to lose myself in thoughts about it or anything like that.

But as it was, its existence seemed to rest and just outside of my ability to process anything. But furthermore, it’s existence seem to be just outside of its own possibility of existence. So, it was only a potential or something. And it didn’t really feel right they have been merely the potential of something. It felt more right for it to be something more than that. But I didn’t necessarily know what it was that it was going to be. I just knew that it needed to be a little bit more than that.

So, I guess I was just sort of deciding that perhaps that what was there was something that would have to rest somewhere between the folds of existence. Not quite there. Not quite but very clearly. There sounds. Because after all, I was thinking a lot about it. So, it had to have some existence. Certainly, felt as though it was very difficult to tell is very difficult to tell it was everything was. I just knew that he was there. And very strange. It felt very strange to know after him to try to understand that have any kind of quantifiable level.

And so, I guess I feel kind of weird about the situation but I’m not sure exactly why. I’m not sure exactly how I’m supposed to be reacting to any more than a little screen. Trying to understand what it is that it is. But perhaps what it is isn’t because it is the undefined. I mean, that’s kind of what I have to work with, isn’t it? There’s no other way. This thing can exist as anything other than potential. So that’s kind of what I have to deal with. That’s kind of what I have to be working with.

And I suppose I feel kind of strange about it. Just being potential. Just knowing that it’s out there. But maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s enough to exist. I don’t know. It certainly heals as though it might be. It certainly feels as though it might be just enough to get by. And I’m not sure. I’m not sure why it is that. I’m not necessarily feeling good about it. I just know that I’m not necessarily feeling good about it. Then maybe that’s because I feel what kind of connection with it. I feel kind of a connection with potential.

I mean, I’ve existed here for roughly 900 words moving into this paragraph and I haven’t really been anything more than defined by the unknown that I’m obsessed with. I haven’t really been able to quantify who it is that I am. Perhaps that’s not going to be able to have a chance to have it here in this text. Maybe I have to wait until I reach the other end of everything. Maybe I have to wait until I reach the far side of where it is that I am now. Maybe I have to wait till the end of the last line.

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Copyright Russ Bickerstaff 2025

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