Friday, 11 September 2009

surrealism from the dream world of 6am.

the world spins.
can't hear properly.
can hear the colossal roar from the wind outside though.
everythings foggy,
can only hear the beat of my own heart during a lull in the wind.
am i standing upright?
or on the wall?
it doesn't matter - just gotta follow the black passage back to my room.
detour the bathroom.
cold tiles wake me up a little.... only a little.
sinking into woollen carpet
dodge the school bag, dress-up bag, books and ugg boots.
roll into bed.
can feel the fuzzyness of the sheets, and just see the butterfly motif.
war. bombing something?
its hot. why is it so hot?
don't blow me up, i like having me all together.
wake up, wake up. hallucinating. don't want to lay back down in case it starts again.
yep. there they are, little squares trying to blow me up. they arent really squares... more wedges. look like a block of cheese, but blue. and moving.
go to sleep. dream of the colour green.
sounds like waves outside.
think of the beach.
anything to get out of that nuclear bombsite.
wake up.
can't swallow.
(thats what she said).
screw the lame jokes. only me here.
everything still surreal, but overrun by one thought:
find it, take Codral, stop hallucinating.
gotta do art. no sleep. must finish!
and so here i am at 9.22, still foggy all over, aching joints and in desperate need of a doc appointment.
no Show. *cry*
no softball?
no work?
no cassy's?

fuck i hate getting sick!!!
10 mins

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