sitty
So now I sit here and talk to myself about the fallen gods and rising demons. Is there even a difference? Think about it. Down in the subways everything eventually becomes the same color of grey-brown, everything becomes the same color when it disintegrates into dust. Outside, the sounds that people make are low and high and short and long, some sort of mysterious morse code that never stops echoing along the urban corridors. Not since Santa Cruz have I had such a feeling, back then I'd just slow down until I stopped completely and just stood there, thinking, paralyzed. Thinking. Like I couldn't keep going, like even all the everything around me just standing there was nearly too much, like my head could explode if I took another step. Somehow never a fearful immobility, just overwhelmed with wonder. I think maybe I should start swimming in the sea.