There’s too much air to breathe here. A swirling mass of emptiness heaves through the crowd’s lungs. Stop. Won’t everyone just *******--
Someone sings at the bus stop just outside my window. Wires hum, ignoring the melody that person has so carefully constructed. A hiss. Rising steam. An abrupt end.
Another listless night. A beetle flies in through my open window. It takes me twenty minutes to help it back out.
I think about wandering the forest. But am too scared to confront loneliness, and the frailty of human existence.
There is a gap forming already. Here. A dialectic that seeks to sublate my very identity. Subsume those closest to me. Until I am completely alone.
There is a bush down the street which is in bloom right now. I think the sun is too hot. The flowers are wilted. And the pavement is littered with dead bees.
Voices. An exchange. A language game. Two horizons meet, merge, melt. ‘Wait--’ The horizons drop. If only for a moment. And the abyss is revealed.
The only universal in this world is that we are all alone. Trapped in our own understanding. Forever interpreting one another.
I am waiting for the day the wind carries me out the window. Perhaps it will never come. Perhaps I will live a long boring life amongst friends, family, and all those people I despise. Oh well. No point, either way.
2:36am, January 22nd 2016
Lacuna lacuna lacuna. Death death death. Was was was. Is is is.