Post anything that you want, post it anonymously, and as many times as you want. Anything. A story, a secret, your favorite song, a confession, a fear, a love - anything.
I remain optimistic that everything I say has meaning, but I fear it doesn't; especially when it comes to beautiful living&breathing humans, glass towers and grungy dirty glorious places, as if I was stuck somewhere with a language barrier of aesthetics.
This afternoon I had a dream about zombies, fighting them to the death as they were trying to conquer the earth. At one point, I had to climb onto the roof of the room I was stuck in, moving the hinges of the roof open as I stood ontop of the steady surface; this was a sacrifice for the rest of my renegades inside, a distraction as they fired the weapon. Jumping, flying like falling into my fate, I landed in the middle of all of them, shock flying up through my shoes and could immediately feel as every cold hand of death tore through my skin, grabbed greedily with tearing knuckles and rotting fingernails at every organ - spleen, kidneys, the mass of heart beating slower to the tempo of decay, decomposing my body down by taking all of my energy, every bit growing gray in their familiar death.
This afternoon I had a dream about zombies, fighting them to the death as they were trying to conquer the earth. At one point, I had to climb onto the roof of the room I was stuck in, moving the hinges of the roof open as I stood ontop of the steady surface; this was a sacrifice for the rest of my renegades inside, a distraction as they fired the weapon. Jumping, flying like falling into my fate, I landed in the middle of all of them, shock flying up through my shoes and could immediately feel as every cold hand of death tore through my skin, grabbed greedily with tearing knuckles and rotting fingernails at every organ - spleen, kidneys, the mass of heart beating slower to the tempo of decay, decomposing my body down by taking all of my energy, every bit growing gray in their familiar death.
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