Insomnia
What I want to do is buy a Comics For Sad Children t-shirt. However, I feel it would be pretentious, to say the least, to wear a t-shirt for a comic I haven't read.
At the moment I can feel time eroding the sand from under my feet. Soon I will be carried away by the undercurrent to the future, and nothing can do will stop that. I watch the sand roll out from under me, and I don't feel loss for the times gone- more a sense of displacement. I wonder about becoming unstuck in time like an old poster from a wall. Would it hurt, like a fresh cut, or have the dull throb of an old bruise? I imagine the relief/fear that comes from stepping onto a step that's not there in the dark and think that maybe it wouldn't hurt be so bad. I feel the yawing space of the empty theatre sucking at my brain and try to fill it with what ever clutter of noise and light I can, and as I toss in the next worthless piece of glimmer I think of the meaningful swirls of music and glow and how I don't have them. I can feel myself flapping loose in the wind and recall the sensation of falling and landing in my own bed.
Also, my computer's bust.
Story of my life really.
