(no subject)
"in between complete consciousness and the state where anything is possible
the old ceiling fan motor makes sounds like that of an early 90s office printer
(you know the ones with the perforated margins with the holes?
where no matter how carefully you try to tear them off
you almost never can abscise them in one complete strand)
printing up thoughts and worries that seem ever so important at this early hour
but come the morning's light are nothing but an afterthought
crumple each sheet up along with all its negativity
heave it toward the nearest wastebasket
escape the pessimism of every new sheet that meets the ink cartridge
doubts creep in like a cold front over night
and makes you wonder why that old ceiling fan was ever on in the first place
turn off the fan
turn off the printer"
the old ceiling fan motor makes sounds like that of an early 90s office printer
(you know the ones with the perforated margins with the holes?
where no matter how carefully you try to tear them off
you almost never can abscise them in one complete strand)
printing up thoughts and worries that seem ever so important at this early hour
but come the morning's light are nothing but an afterthought
crumple each sheet up along with all its negativity
heave it toward the nearest wastebasket
escape the pessimism of every new sheet that meets the ink cartridge
doubts creep in like a cold front over night
and makes you wonder why that old ceiling fan was ever on in the first place
turn off the fan
turn off the printer"