a fear of skinny fingers...
i've been pre-dreaming my days...clouding it up a bit..charcoal on paper, pet the paper, smear the day...the ink is wet...patience..patience...too hasty! every time...its the same thing...
i have these vivid dreams lately...conversations that go perfectly...wind chimes that sound like raindrops...people i used to know like to visit me in the dark...they like to perch on the edge of the dresser and keep me up all night asking me questions about our lives...monday night an old man i saw on saturday waiting at a stop light came and sat on a chair that doesn't exist in the corner of the room...he would shake me awake if i nodded off...he told me about toy construction..he explained how simple most things were put together..and taken apart...we talked about cars we used to own...
another night, some time last week i woke up talking to my friend darcey...i haven't seen her in 5 years...she's lost a lot of weight and she still really likes to talk fashion...
then there's a man april calls the whistler...she told me he's always been in the house and not to worry because he's never hostile...you cant see him...only from the corners of your eyes occasionally, he lets you catch him running from room to room...like...if you look away from someone swinging a bat and you see the line of color the bat creates...SNAP...its fast...its so fast once you give it thought it's already over...this is how the whistler works...i was fine with her telling me about him always being around, and how docile he is...then she put salt on the floor by the door..sea salt that she keeps her special 'seer' stones in...then i found it around the window...and she shook all night when he and i were chatting in the dark...now i don't believe her...but i don't anyone anymore...not even myself..
i'm listening to a movie in spanish...
note to self: the women in spanish movies laugh a lot...and its always very shrill, painful..and the men are never laughing when the women are...the men are always brooding and walking around town like they have no fucking place to be...all the spanish guys i know drop jokes incessently and rarely stay in one place for very long...
this is part of the reason i don't believe anyone any more...
i have these vivid dreams lately...conversations that go perfectly...wind chimes that sound like raindrops...people i used to know like to visit me in the dark...they like to perch on the edge of the dresser and keep me up all night asking me questions about our lives...monday night an old man i saw on saturday waiting at a stop light came and sat on a chair that doesn't exist in the corner of the room...he would shake me awake if i nodded off...he told me about toy construction..he explained how simple most things were put together..and taken apart...we talked about cars we used to own...
another night, some time last week i woke up talking to my friend darcey...i haven't seen her in 5 years...she's lost a lot of weight and she still really likes to talk fashion...
then there's a man april calls the whistler...she told me he's always been in the house and not to worry because he's never hostile...you cant see him...only from the corners of your eyes occasionally, he lets you catch him running from room to room...like...if you look away from someone swinging a bat and you see the line of color the bat creates...SNAP...its fast...its so fast once you give it thought it's already over...this is how the whistler works...i was fine with her telling me about him always being around, and how docile he is...then she put salt on the floor by the door..sea salt that she keeps her special 'seer' stones in...then i found it around the window...and she shook all night when he and i were chatting in the dark...now i don't believe her...but i don't anyone anymore...not even myself..
i'm listening to a movie in spanish...
note to self: the women in spanish movies laugh a lot...and its always very shrill, painful..and the men are never laughing when the women are...the men are always brooding and walking around town like they have no fucking place to be...all the spanish guys i know drop jokes incessently and rarely stay in one place for very long...
this is part of the reason i don't believe anyone any more...
posted by inkblot at 1:33 AM
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