conversations with something
2005-02-23 - 10:44 p.m.

This is how my life works:

I have a long and busy day, but feel calm and sing-songy throughout it. I go through the motions and forget about reality. Sadness over this and that and nothing at all continues to prod me, and I feel terribly alone. As I get into my pajamas and decide to end the day, a sudden strong sensation rushes over me. It's a lightheaded sort of feeling, where the world moves slowly and I can feel myself inside of my body more than ever. I have an unreasonable urge to go for a walk, and that's just what I do. I redress myself and bundle up. I grab my dog and leave the door wide open behind me. I have no idea where to go, so I just go. And I walk, and I think about things, and see the beautiful world and wonder to myself why the universe has brought me outside. It happens all the time, whenever I'm in any sort of rut. I'm usually in a rut. So I walk down an alley, on a path, to a bench. I sit down and notice a pair of boots under the bench. I begin to daydream rather sighful dreams, and stare up at the sky. And there in the sky is a gigantic shooting star dashing through the north eastern sky. I sigh deeply and think to myself "why do you do this to me, universe?" and stand myself up. I loiter for a while, gazing at the sky, wondering who else out there saw that shooting star. Slowly making my way back home, I can't help wonder what the universe is preparing me for. Why does it always do this to me? Draw me out of my house to see a shooting star? Something like this hasn't happened in a while, but I'm really glad it did. Now the world is moving without me and I'm spinning in a dimension of my own. I'll write boldly in black ink and fall asleep.

past | future