Nonsensical, philosophical, ramblings. I must say that I wrote this without any specific character in mind so really however anyone wants to interpret/apply it.
I walked a tightrope once. Not quite on the ground, not quite in the air. Along that thin line between waking and sleeping where the mind experiences complete freedom, becomes completely mad. Scary. That place where reality and dream are identical. Where you are aware of everything and nothing at the same time. What is it that the hopeful hope for and the dreamers dream? What do the fearful fear and the dauntless daunt? The knowledgeable must know while the confused remain confounded. The lonely stay lost because no one looks and the seekers search and find…? Find what? I wonder what is there? The pastries are stale, the milk is starting to sour too. I set the teacups out hours ago. I guess no one is coming. One and one and one is...ten or six or two depending on your perspective. Movement in the valley of dreams. Time ticks on but how long has it really been, seconds, days, years? Maybe everything else changes while I sit here the same? Oh dear, now it’s begun to rain. It gets in the tea and makes it salty, like tears. I’ve heard of the sea, I have yet to see it though. You can’t go too far out into the world because it’s flat and you’ll fall off the end. But maybe it’s better there than here?
Created: Feb 18, 2010Document Media