I feel like letting my thoughts run wild. the beasts of imagination breathing down my back, "the only thing left to lose are their chains..." or so they say in Marxist propaganda.
They pile on top of each other willing to be burned by the first spark that presents itself. a funeral pyre of ambition. an aimless ramble. the power of expression. it all goes to shit when you take control.
I have so many things competing for control of my thoughts. each one presenting an argument, each one describing how legitimate it is...
...overwhelmed with the newness of conversation, with ambiguity and mystery. I haven't felt this in so long that I don't even know what to do with myself. It seems as if everything is weighing down and tightening and my spirit is lifting, floating. it's all so surreal. ethereal. I am not hungry. Her hair looks soft.
The fork in the road simply points in every direction. "Choose!" it demands so much of me. How am I to choose when the only road I know is the one I walk everyday...the one right by your house, to the left of the abandoned lot, next to the tree growing little by little but stronger everyday. I flutter to the ground without a care.
There is a hole in my shoe and this is all so sensational. There is a whole in the world, and I think it's found wherever we lay our roots, or wherever they see fit you take hold.
... I've walked her home twice now.
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1 comment:
im so stoked on this entry, u da man and run the cam cord er
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