Spinning, Saying the N-word in my Head

I was sitting in front of my toy-gunmetal orange steel desk.  I was in a well-used desk chair, spinning in circles, repeating the N-word in my head.  I notice the dizzier I got the easier the word became to say.  At first, it was like swallowing a shattered ceramic pot, or eggshells.  Then I got the sudden feeling that I might shit that same shrapnel.  

The room turned into a circle.  The lines on everything smoothed into waves. Edges dissolved.  The desk ran into a bed which ran into a wall which ran into a door and all of that ran back into that goddam gunmetal orange desk.  

The word was there now, as if on display in one of those jewelry store revolving cases.  I could see it from different angles as it revolved.  Now, my feet pushed off the grown to get more momentum.  That word grew and stretched and exposed itself.  I spun faster in the chair.  The neighbors in the apartment below probably hated that chair.  It felt like I could wear a groove right through the wood floor. The grinding made a nauseating noise.

But I knew I could spin faster.  The centrifugal force brought me against the back of the chair and threatened to drag my eyes out of my skull.  That’s when the word went flat.  It was still well lit, but it had become two dimensional.  A simple black word on a white background as if punched into existence by a typewriter.  

At that speed, it became just a word.  I could say it without any emotion attached to it.  No eggshells, no sharp edges at all.  I could say it, over and over and over.  It was flat off my tongue.  I could tell it would refuse to echo if shouted into a cave or a long tunnel.  

Then the chair began to slow down.  There it was - the word slowing down with me.  And I could still see it perfectly clear.  But it stayed flat.  I had wrung the juice out of it.  And that’s how it has been ever since.  

I don’t care how anyone else feels about that word.  This is just the way I handled it. It’s worked for me so far.