Monday, November 17, 2014

12.38 after midnight, Tuesday; November 18th 2014.

So (before my time's up) I was thinking of posting an entry here that's kind of like a nod to Édouard Levé. Writing an endless stream of thoughts, literally anything that comes to mind. It may come out as a mindless rant.. Pretty confident it'll come out as a mindless rant but that won't stop me from doing it.
Why am I writing about writing it instead? It's late and I'm physically ill so I am posting this as a reminder to myself and so I can pressure myself into following through with this idea soon(-ish).
After all, a story isnt a story if it stays in your head; that's just imagination.

Text to friends with broken legs.

I exist in the in betweens of awake and asleep
In the sound of children's laughters
In a parent's tears of joy
In the blowing breeze of a spring morning.
I exist in the dead of night.
I dwell in your broken dreams.
In all your sadness and regret.
I am with you every moment of every day.
Watching. Waiting. Happy or sad. For better or worse.
I am your sickness and your cure.
I am your mind.
Consuming you alive.