Somewhere

Somewhere, there is a city whose citizens entertain not with the quantity of their talk, but with the quality. A city that at least tries to be witty. Somewhere, there is a city whose politicians at least pretend to care. Who cover up their biases. A city that poses more questions than answers. A city that makes you think. Somewhere, there's a city that is beautiful after dark, under the moon. A city where you're not afraid of what the shadows hold, but, instead, you relish the darkness for it's potential. There's a city measured not by the height of it's buildings, but by the height a young lover must climb to reach the balcony of his Love. Somewhere, there is a city that cherishes creativity, and rejects the mundane. A city where time spent on a restaurant patio is considered far more valuable than time spent in a cubicle. Somewhere, there is a city. A city with at least one of these things. A city that is always somewhere else.

Platitudinous musings.

Trolleys sitting on barren streets. Windows frozen over, white with frost. Tough love from a man selling monkeys. Long black cars drifting effortlessly around city street corners. Telephones ringing in abandoned offices. The one floorboard that squeaks when you're up alone at night. An old woman yelling at the sky. A pack of wild dogs scavenging in an alley. On the other side of town, a gang of alley cats prowling down a shadowy lane way. A dilapidated house sitting atop a mangy hill, it's contents disused for decades. Dusty. All.

Haiku for today.

Frosty sheet of ice
Ruthlessly crunched beneath shoes
-What a way to go

One day, three sleeps.

I spent much (17.5 hours) of the last 24 hours sleeping. No real reason - just because.

1300-1900

I'm running down these halls, dimly lit as always. At one point I stop when I realise that I don't know why I'm running or what/who I'm running from. After some thought on the matter I figure out that I'm not actually running from anyone, but that I'm trapped. There's no way out of here. No doors, no windows, no nothing - just all of this weird half-light. Exhausted, I stop, and when I do a booming voice breaks the silence. "Leaving so soon? And where'll you go that's better than here?"

"Hey are you asleep?"

"Snrrg?"

"Just letting you know that it's seven - supper'll be done soon."

2330-0600

I'm lying in bed, sleeping. An abnormally giant keg of beer separates Mrs. Remark and myself. I have to admit - it looks kind of cute in those little pajamas. I'm dreaming of sleeping and I know it. It's a very weird feeling. I also know how very real that giant keg of beer is. I hear Mrs. Remark, on the other side of the keg, tossing and turning, incredibly uncomfortable sleeping next to this behemoth. I attempt to drape an arm over it, cuddling it close. A headache is building in my noggin, and I want to continue sleeping. But I can't.

"Huh? Where are you going? Are you getting up?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I'm not tired."

"That's crazy."

"..."

0700-1300

Right now my cat, Sydney, is scared of me. I can feel his presence at the foot of my bed. He's been there all morning. I've probably been kicking him. I'm thinking of all these things to say to him, but I can't because I'm sleeping. Why lay at my feet? Why not come up here where I'm not going to kick you? I'll change your litter later. The headache still lingers and I'm wondering if I may just have it for the rest of my life. I slip into a dream's dream. It is but a flash, but it seems to last 25 years. I'm flying through the solar system. Not in a spaceship or anything fancy like that, but I'm just flying, free. I'm visiting all of the planets, looking for life. I'm not find any. All of our planets, and their moons, are sterile. I get to the end, just past Pluto, and I'm having trouble breathing. On my way back to Earth I make plans to go out again and search a different system.

RING. RING. RI-

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. Just letting you know that I'll be a little longer."

"All right."

"So, what are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Really? Still!? Why?"

"Something to do. I'm thinking of getting up now though."

Napping at work, I discovered

Love and hate cohabit in this long half-lit hallway - true love lingering far off in one end, and true hate skulking in the other. But this is no ordinary hallway, long and straight. This hallway gradually curves so that it's ends eventually meet, separated by an impenetrable glass wall. When you're in the middle of this hallway, farthest away from both ends, you can see neither love nor hate. When you move closer to one side, however, both become more clear. When you walk to one end and reach true love, for example, you're faced, also, with true hate through that glass wall. The wall is impenetrable, so the hate can't reach you, yet you're influenced by it being so close. It works the other way around too.

I woke up when I spilled coffee on my crotch, so I was unable to explore further.

Ignis Fatuus

The kick from my revolver threw me hard onto my back in the marshy clearing, and I stared, horrified, skyward, as the spectral cloud seemed to cluster, forming opalescent shapes hanging frighteningly close overhead. Increasingly light-headed, my heart was thumping in my throat and I screamed in terror and rage as I emptied my gun, firing at the sky, choking in that ghastly air. Beaten, I curled up, sobbing with my head in my arms thinking: man there are a lot of commas in this paragraph.