Monday, 11 January 2016

uhh

Life gets in the way of existing, or is it the other way around?

I can hear the washing machine screaming, and it sounds like a plane's about to take off, except it's just spinning clothes.
Something about my throat feels like I've swallowed a strip of velcro, and it's lodged itself as an apparition, coming and going as it pleases.. it makes me want to douse it in flames of boiling water, and I do.

Nights come dressed in designer kafkaesque ensemble and it's hard for me to tell when I really slept and when was I awake. I remember the toss and turns and some dreams that stay clinging to my eyelashes when I wake and steadily disintegrate with each blink, but other than that each sleep passes away like a screensaver in night mode; a small shrug, and it's a blazing nothing.
____

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