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Abstruse - ramblings:

Oct. 16th, 2003

06:53 am - Abstruse

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There're certain things that come to mind when one sits alone too long in a dark room. Sure, the screen has the glaring glow that finally allows you to notice exactly how dirty the lens between your eye and that too bright square is (they've probably been that way for days), but you can still feel the darkness surround you.

I sail back and forth between lying on the beach and tossing myself in the waves. Some days with no urge to do anything but stretch out alone in the heat and enjoy how perfect everything is when it's allowed to be. Others, I'm drawn so far in staring at the shimmering white bite of the waves, I don't even realize when there's no sand gritted between my toes and it's more like the indifferent sea tossing me. Just enough of a shake to make me realize I'm a very tiny giant, and that I can't wander around getting distracted by shiny things with no regard to where I'm going.

This conscious living thing is growing easier and harder everyday, especially on the days I just want to dream. All it takes is a few hours (four of sleeping, in the case of tonight) for whatever feeling pleases to creep in. They don't knock and won't even say hi or who they are sometimes. Just a sneaky bandit here to get away with what it can, and screw the police, you closed your eyes.

I like sleeping when it's safe. It's part of understanding the game. If you leave yourself unprotected in the dark, you'd better have that black notebook beside your bed to record what haunts you. Or--to save on time, ink and paper--just work away the sleepness nights and slumber secure in a sun-lit bed.
No one's going to attack you in broad daylight.

There're still a few hours before I'll feel safe again. I made the mistake of smoking too much and slipped into a helpless stupor where it only feels natural to fall asleep under a thin throw completely clothed. Purposely staying in the torn jeans and this damn uncomfortable bra, even when I know I won't be leaving my room anytime soon, as an unconscious alarm set when I'm too high to remember the terror of sleeping alone in the dark.
I could barely focus on the room.
Hours later, waking disoriented with that feeling

Who knows what's askew, if anything is. It's stilll a few ticks before clarity is a tangible friend. Until then, I have this pesky whim to find the perfect word to specify what it's like for me wake like this: dark to dark, with no one near and not even a means to contact them. When it's all detached (me from me and me from all) and the recurring insect I've named "Will it Ever Change?" scurries through my thoughts before I'm quick enough to squish it.


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