s p a c e d
365 Gay Sharks
Day 95, Word Count: 602
Theme: March; Truth and Consequences
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
s p a c e d
you need money and space. money and space are things in short supply because the world is only so big and they is only so much gold in it and you're not likely to get either of those things if you're a spacecase. which i am, you know, so they'll never give me anything of my own otherwise i'll ruin it.
space is transient, always in movement even when it is still, because you can lose your space as easily as you got it. even easier, actually, because you have to fight for space. you have to earn it, want it, feel it, guard it. i'm not good at any of those things, but i never was much good at anything. never was the kind of person who could focus focus focus.
i have to run. my space is every space that will allow me into it, and i will find the money somehow.
if i can't obtain it legally, then i could always steal it. it's easy to steal things when you know that everything leaves, because if everything leaves then nothing is yours for very long so you can have the space that you're in for a little while, for a few moments, but they you've got to give it up to the next person. the amount of time is the tricky thing, see, because the amount of time you're allowed to stay in a particular place changes. shifts. dislocates.
there are always ghosts.
you leave behind something of yourself every time you leave a space. it may be small, infinitesimally so, but it is there. tiny bits of dead skin, stray memories, shed hairs, words absorbed into the walls. there is a little bit of you in every place you've been, and when you go to a new place you can hear all the ghosts of the other people who have been in that space if you listen hard enough.
listen.
do you feel the way that the space wraps around you, comforts suffocates disregards loves you? can you feel the way that it's alive, like you or me, and it speaks to you in tongues old and paper like yellowed books that smell of dust and mold? maybe you're not listening hard enough if you can't. it's hard to hear sometimes, i know. i've been listening my whole life and sometimes my ears have to strain to hear.
so you don't really need money. you just need space, and it doesn't even have to be yours. you can borrow it or you can steal it and it makes no difference because space is space is space and there's nothing really different about it when it belongs to you except that maybe it speaks to you more clearly because the longer you stay in a place then the more of you that's in a place. so if you're paranoid, don't want your old words filtering into someone's head so many years from now, then be careful of what you say and be careful of where you go.
the walls have ears and they will remember what you said.
they will remember everything. they will hoard every little piece of you like some beautiful treasure they are incapable of parting with. maybe that's the advantage of a space that's yours. it's a space that loves you knows you wants to speak to you. it is an endless fountain of inspiration, so long as you let it inspire you. open your eyes. feel the words that the space is speaking to you.
then write them down before they are absorbed again.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Day 95, Word Count: 602
Theme: March; Truth and Consequences
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
s p a c e d
you need money and space. money and space are things in short supply because the world is only so big and they is only so much gold in it and you're not likely to get either of those things if you're a spacecase. which i am, you know, so they'll never give me anything of my own otherwise i'll ruin it.
space is transient, always in movement even when it is still, because you can lose your space as easily as you got it. even easier, actually, because you have to fight for space. you have to earn it, want it, feel it, guard it. i'm not good at any of those things, but i never was much good at anything. never was the kind of person who could focus focus focus.
i have to run. my space is every space that will allow me into it, and i will find the money somehow.
if i can't obtain it legally, then i could always steal it. it's easy to steal things when you know that everything leaves, because if everything leaves then nothing is yours for very long so you can have the space that you're in for a little while, for a few moments, but they you've got to give it up to the next person. the amount of time is the tricky thing, see, because the amount of time you're allowed to stay in a particular place changes. shifts. dislocates.
there are always ghosts.
you leave behind something of yourself every time you leave a space. it may be small, infinitesimally so, but it is there. tiny bits of dead skin, stray memories, shed hairs, words absorbed into the walls. there is a little bit of you in every place you've been, and when you go to a new place you can hear all the ghosts of the other people who have been in that space if you listen hard enough.
listen.
do you feel the way that the space wraps around you, comforts suffocates disregards loves you? can you feel the way that it's alive, like you or me, and it speaks to you in tongues old and paper like yellowed books that smell of dust and mold? maybe you're not listening hard enough if you can't. it's hard to hear sometimes, i know. i've been listening my whole life and sometimes my ears have to strain to hear.
so you don't really need money. you just need space, and it doesn't even have to be yours. you can borrow it or you can steal it and it makes no difference because space is space is space and there's nothing really different about it when it belongs to you except that maybe it speaks to you more clearly because the longer you stay in a place then the more of you that's in a place. so if you're paranoid, don't want your old words filtering into someone's head so many years from now, then be careful of what you say and be careful of where you go.
the walls have ears and they will remember what you said.
they will remember everything. they will hoard every little piece of you like some beautiful treasure they are incapable of parting with. maybe that's the advantage of a space that's yours. it's a space that loves you knows you wants to speak to you. it is an endless fountain of inspiration, so long as you let it inspire you. open your eyes. feel the words that the space is speaking to you.
then write them down before they are absorbed again.
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D