driving home was a dream i had

2004-07-14, 12:46 p.m.

sticking into the spongy meat of my lungs, waking me up, wheezing away with a continuous train of thought. the doctor says its only a matter of time before i break down and i will need someone to breathe for me. ill lay in bed with the same eyes drifting over the same ceiling tracing the lines and depressions into a comatose map that i use to guide me in dreams.

wonderful invention

once again, dawn seeps into windows and strange smells come from the floor when i walk with eyes shut. alarms and stuttering speech--- cobblestones poking out of the shortcut grass that i walk over in a sleep-deprived daze. it would have been my house that i woke at only two weeks ago. it would have been the hummmmmm of a computer fan that drove me to bed two weeks ago. it would have been the collage of images and self constructed images of grandeur that would lay me down at 3 am.

anxious tension

placed onto a platform whose folcrum lay somewhere between us, steps are taken to stop the swaying motions. it takes longer than expected, and the gray stone is still shaking like a child left in the cold with no sweater. told not to give up, i hold my tongue and i savor what i can for now, because i could just as easily fall back into that dark spot with electrons who lack the energy to glow and dance. i would fall into them as i used to fall into the rooms full with multicolored plastic balls, and i would swim desparately with legs outreached trying to touch the ground. i guess its my plea to not have to fall into that place tonight, or tomorrow.