PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Looking through black glass.
Upon eclipsed sunsets.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
I see, different, my children as a ghost Eyes trapped behind slow motion, windows.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Time is slow, slowing, still, Stiller.
The minds life, still, Carry's on.
But. I'm already gone.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
I'm haunting, haunted, slipping a-way, a viewer.
No part of this world.
Half in, the next, time.
Subconscious collisions.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Ethereally dissattached.
Ghostly spectator.
Already gone.
Light is dimming.
Darkness draws close.
PSSSHHHHH... (White noise) says crow.
Life seen as a flicker film.
A solitary viewer.
Light is dimming. Click.
Darkness. Gone.
A true story. Death of the author at the hands of sick authority figures. But you can't accuse authority.
What is it like to know death is close.
How do you feel and see the world around you? *Tony Conrad. The flicker.
