a floating thought.
waning moon shines over the valley,
below, a landscape peppered with lights
flickers
a tinge of melancholy, nostalgia:
the longing for a time that passed long before me,
for a place that lies on the horizon,
where houses spread, peppered the darkened landscape with lights
and flickers
things i got from the half dreams #2
“…so we can finally get rid of her, and give her anything she wants; but, then, she won’t stand anything we give to her except for ice.”
– august 15th, 2015
things i got from the half dreams #1
the guy in the dark blue suit strode through the basement door, stopped at the landing above
and waved a transparent plastic bag in front of him. in it: five toes,
dark as chunks of chocolates, and each twice the size of my left index finger.
i was in the process of making bread, mixing flour and water and eggs and a pinch of salt.
he said, “these are the last ingredients. meat and bone.”
i could taste the bread already;
salty and meaty. and the weight of it inside my belly.
– january 18th, 2016
a hazed mind.
it’s like you’re walking on a knee-deep muddy road, in the middle of a very thick fog. so thick you can’t even see the tip of your nose. and the air is so dense that the words coming out of your mouth just barely makes a vibration in the air, let alone to be heard. you have to make a great effort to just get the words to be heard by you yourself. shout as hard as you can, try to get the words to go through the fog. walk! shout! pierce! you don’t know if there’ll be someone that hears you, or walking the same muddy road with you inside that fog, but shout anyway. keep walking. keep talking. know this: all things must end. including the road and the fog and the state of mind you’re in right now.
but it’s also like when you are full of energy and excitement, but you don’t feel that anything excites you at all. so you writhe in agony, all that energy and excitement eventually get to pent up inside you until you feel like exploding. ranting about anything to anyone willing. dancing like a madman in the middle of the road. walking or running around to anywhere, anywhere at all. until eventually it all calms down and you feel so exhausted after getting all that energy and excitement out of your system. and then you rest. you eat. you sleep. and perhaps after a good few hours you’re back to normal. normal.
funny word, ‘normal.’
currently (re)reading the road by cormac mccarthy. a heartbreaking novel about a father and his son, traveling south in the dusts and ashes of civilization as they know it.
