Tiny voices undulate the wall making path to deaf ears on the opposite edge. Head ringing at the buzz of the drum roll aching to ignore the fallaciousness. They began to laugh high notes and shrieking, all the more reason to smash the wooden stick to the colourful, plastic bubble while concentration diverts to the brown bed already, the day was done yet nobody lulls to sleep. Tiptoes can be heard from a short distance, could it be? Improbable. Probability equals to none. It ends when the light shuts up its rotten palate. Faint whispers of Tubthumping in the background, beginning to wallow in disparaging animosity shaking the foundation of nature and discourse. It shallowly disappears for a second. It fades to darkness, fades to black, fades to surreal, evolving and spinning, hardening its carapace. Horns are blown and thorns from roses become tongue in winter solstice. Black is to red and blue is to yellow. Narcotic, neurotic, episodic. The deformed masks found electrolytes in midday, now recharged and bashfully prepared. Black is back and back to back.
I had recently adorned a vow of silence for myself with Miriam for no apparent reason whatsoever other than to suit my whim, and, regardless of the pettiness associated with this misdemeanour, I pray this will only strengthen us both in spirit for the coming days. The coming days are definitely not meant for one such as me.
In the next few hours, not shortly before I am done with this piece, this vow will be disavowed. Miriam is sleeping soundly in my right, broken by the exhaustion that seemed to catch her unaware. This was not what she had prepared for when coming to London. This was not what I meant for her when I asked her to come. In order to alleviate the guilt of me making it more difficult for us both, I do what it is that I do best, and that is to love her hungrily and wildly. And some little bit of swag on the side to cure her state of frustration albeit temporarily.
My days are long and yet wields very little. For now I do and take whatever I can, whenever I can. A grand f…
In the next few hours, not shortly before I am done with this piece, this vow will be disavowed. Miriam is sleeping soundly in my right, broken by the exhaustion that seemed to catch her unaware. This was not what she had prepared for when coming to London. This was not what I meant for her when I asked her to come. In order to alleviate the guilt of me making it more difficult for us both, I do what it is that I do best, and that is to love her hungrily and wildly. And some little bit of swag on the side to cure her state of frustration albeit temporarily.
My days are long and yet wields very little. For now I do and take whatever I can, whenever I can. A grand f…