15.12.09

about...
On a patch of wet grass I lie to observe the shapes that wind and perspective form up to attempt to mesmerise those who rest and dare look upwards. A cop-out to anything and everything, the whole set that surrounds me releases its lure and breaks me down into sleep. It is me who is real, so I dream of the rest to have overwhelming control of where is up and where is down. I can notice a river of dank waters drifting sounds of distress and laments of gone zest. I can tell a black figure rowing to and fro in a boat carrying folk which appear blue and blurry. In spite of the peculiar landscape, I alleviate myself and take a deep breath. No demons, no people, no feelings, just ease.

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