we're full of photons
and you're sleeping right now. that's very strange to me. currently, i'd imagine, you are lightly snoring, curled up like a little caterpillar in your feathers and face half on/off a pillow. or, you've got one eye cracked open, crabby at some roommate/dog/car/conflict of interest entering your half-conscious, amber little world. i feel so disconnected from that sleep, and you in it, so much i'm unconsciously twisting that fabric between my index finger an thumb. i woke up to something this monday morning grasping on like tacit tactile compulsion. remember when i told you i missed most of my dream? but, like, i will have about 15 more hours of life this week than you will. and will all that time get clipped off at the end of my days? or do i just have an extra 15 hours a week to feel sick and miserable, and be a little more dead while i'm alive? whatever the case, it's a great day for listening to music and piecing things together. the edges get a little more sticky on days like this.
i finished the wind-up bird chronicles just a minute ago, and i don't know what to do next. i thought about you sleeping, and i wanted you to know that the thought had passed.
i finished the wind-up bird chronicles just a minute ago, and i don't know what to do next. i thought about you sleeping, and i wanted you to know that the thought had passed.