liquid memories

2004-08-18, 2:22 p.m.

its a sophomoric thought that creeps into my system, but all the while i love to juggle it in my veins. the shadows on the wall are a shackled mans universe, the cracks that miss the fires light have been studied endlessly fore there is nowhere else to look. here i am, amoung the vast and changing bands of visible light, numerous odors, seemingly inifinite physical sensations; its just a larger cave.

first, you are blinded by the fire, then you are blinded by the sun, and the landscape becomes a inversed image of your past life. that is not the way back, child. that is a hole to crawl through, but there is no respite at the end. your dreams of solace need to stay calm for now, the walls are spinning and you are changing flavors in front of my eyes.

so i guess you are quarks and fields, just like me. what organized you? why does the light bounce softly off cheeks and lips, bringing on a sinking feeling of helplessness? you must have stolen the blood from the recently enlightened, departing souls on their way to cellestial ballrooms.

given the choice to unplug yourself, there are so many reasons to stay safe. the blankets always seem warmer and softer when the sunday sun reaches the window.