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Friday, August 13, 2004
Somehow I've become tired and forgotten. A cord, a channel of energy. Some life. I need your hands again, but you're dead. Everyone.. is. My heart is slow to beat. Its become pointless to worry about being remembered. Apathy bites hard. Numb lips. Memories of Albany. In the black my closed eyes harbor, I can see the soft pink of the flowers. Cold, dry. My energy circumvents water. No rain blesses this earth. Is she dying? Tuesday, August 10, 2004
I wake up from nightmares I can’t remember. In the conscious world it’s black. There is a constant humming of two fans and a screen flapping madly against the wall. There is a streak of streetlight on the ceiling. There is an empty room. And I wake up with a pounding heart. I’m paralyzed. It takes a great deal of effort to roll on my side again and slam my mind back into sleep. Where I keep having nightmares. Hundreds of dead voices are talking to me all at once. Some speak a different language, But I can comprehend them all. I tune in to hear about a boy who was killed for his sneakers. I hear the voices of things that one should never hear. I wake up again, paralyzed. This continues until I can no longer stand the mental burden. I’m awake and can’t get out of bed. I’m awake and it feels like I woke up in the wrong body. I don’t recognize my own twitching fingers. I feel too tall. This doesn’t feel right. What’s going on? |
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