To these already familiar

A thought comes to mind
And I feel the need to speak it aloud.
Hanging frozen in the air,
Each word looks the same as the next;
A white cloud of vapour.
I know now that all words are meaningless.

When I lived in the mountains I soon forgot them. Now I live amongst glass towers and I forget them too - until I look up. The unimportance of where I live...

All cities are all cities.

...

Nothing is more lonely than an empty

bar

nonsense

I’m gonna burst through and become something new. Kick off my shoes and go on a real wild ride, ya know? Rock ‘n’ roll. Lock ‘n’ load. I’ll jack into that sun and steal the airwaves - surf the deadly curl of Aurora Borealis – slip on down through a crack in the atmosphere. Putting on a pile of parkas, I’ll be back on that beach in Spain; the one where I met that fish that time. A real looker, too. He’ll realise just how right I really am after I take all those tests. Ace them all. Throw them right out the window with all that other junk. Stuff ya don’t need, but will gladly snatch up at my neighbour’s next garage sale. Mortgage your destiny and liquidate providence. I’ve a coveted ticket to the big show, the big debut scheduled for early next millennium. It’s gonna be a real party, like. Ya’ll are invited, too, if you know the right folks. Thinkin’ folks. People you knew back then in the good ol’ days – real philosophers, too. Back when a philosopher’s only job was to think. Take me back ahead to that time. Strand me there. I’ll call when I’m ready to come home.

That Oily Blue Whisper

I leaned back and sank further into the overstuffed red pleather couch. For the first time, I realized that there was music playing. Coincidentally, it was the same colour as the walls.

A washed-out yellow-orange.

James Brown. After listening for a time, I decided that James Brown was perfect for E trips. Surely, he was high on E when he wrote Papa's Got a Brand New Bag. It just made so much sense that night. With my eyes closed, I was alone and two thoughts swam through my mind: (they are lost in the imperfection of memory).

At some point whilst wandering the wilds of solitude, I lost my ability to lie, I loved everyone, and everything felt amazing.

I ended up out on the back steps with Tina beneath a big blue moon, in the warm summer air; it felt like tepid water to me, and Tina's forearm seemed to melt into my own. We became one that night, sharing everything important with one another: our hopes and dreams, our loves and desires.

Everything that was good.

Her fingertips stroked part of my neck for at least three hours while we talked - I thought for sure she had worn a groove into my flesh, and I'd have a permanent reminder of that night.

But this was not a bad thing.

Finally, at about half past eternity, we started to get chilly as the sun came up. Heading into the house that morning, we found everyone peaceful and passed out, scattered carelessly about the room. Staking out a spot on the floor, we fell asleep in each other's arms. Perfect. Platonic.

The next day - no, the next week - was horribly mundane.

fragments

I keep having this image flash in my mind - some kind of mental hallucination. Almost like it's an image of what eternity looks like - maybe infinity - maybe both. I tried to write about it last month [November 15th - 4 days before my birthday! Connexion?], and posted it as a sort of free verse. Not the right format for it though, and it didn't really hold the weight of the image when I went back to look at it.

I'm adrift on a makeshift raft.
The sky is completely black
But for the tiny pin-pricks of stars.
Silence.
The deep green sea
Is illuminated from beneath.
(Like I'm floating on liquid emerald.)

---------------

Need to expound on it further: I am adrift on a makeshift raft in the pitch black of midnight - the stars nothing more that pin-pricks in the sky. It feels like this is all taking place inside some sort of large box, and the stars are just holes in which white light from the infinite Outside is passing through. That's the feeling I'm getting anyhow. The deep green sea on which I'm floating is strangely illuminated from underneath by some unknown light source. Looking at myself in third-person view, I finds that my skin is awash in an eerie green/yellow hue. It is not entirely silent, as I can hear the splish-splashing of water against my raft. I'm not worried about my situation, but entirely at peace with it. Things are just as they are. Some sort of purgatory? The one thing I'm thinking about is how there can be so much quiet in such a large place. Dangling an arm over the side of the raft, I find the water to be the same temperature as me. Like blood? I know that there is nothing alive in the water or in the air. In fact, there is nothing at all in this box. Only me.

[Need to think about what this means - why I'm so worried about forgetting it.]

dream

Dreamed that I discovered the boiling point of fire. This was a very vague dream and I don't remember much, but that was the central idea. Gave way to thoughts of: "well, if you can boil fire, then you must be able to freeze it, too." Was working in some sort of ultra-sterile environment. A lab? Woke with a terrible headache behind my left eye. Suspect possible chocolate overdose. Maybe liquor.

Sketch of Streetcar Platform

Stand
_____waiting for the train
I pace forth
_____then back
__________a rumble from the tracks
A train thunders by
Wrong direction
_____The thwip tthhwhip of electricity
Blue arc of energy

Quiet

I look down to find
_____two white flowers
__________lying frozen side by side



[Go back to doctor up the metre. Revise]