Sunday, September 17, 2006
early sunday mornings
6:57am. the sun is slowly rising, its a cold morning and i am up. half asleep i wish i could sleep for a little longer but these days its hard. my mind has too much to process, and sleeping doesn't fit into the algorithm.
there is a strong belief that things will get better and then there's the bitter reality that weighs heavier than air. Objects appear larger than they are in rearview mirrors because to matter too much is better than not mattering at all. if i could then i would arrange rose petals in uniform lines, fill in the spaces of the stripes i've made and walk in content every time, to the thought that this is mine. but it's not, never has and i'm sure it never will be.
when you stand in the middle of the street and hear someone screaming at you, you then know that the world is watching. and slowly everyone comes to join the circle of knowing, when before it was best not to know, not to be bothered.
these hardwood floors have not been waxed in years and in this this huge room with three walls and a big window on one side, light is being filtered. papers have been pasted and every inch of this window has been covered, with blue soiled grace on white lace. the sun makes it's way around the room to the window and light slowly shines through. standing exactly in the middle of this we become a part of this process - of finding our destiny. plans of these dreams are then elevated and drawn into sections to show the fear that is hidden deep within every dream that we have dreamt of and every wished that we have wished for. turning around, there is too much to choose from, too much to know and so the room is then left empty in its magic, empty in a photograph.
i can hear arwa's voice in my head constantly singing this one line,
'stay with me for a while, you don't have to look at me'
and the guitars are pretty also. some changes will be made. they'll be made soon.
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