| | I've been doing a lot of thinking today.
I was watching Party Monster and that slow, sad piano song came on.
I hate that part of the movie.
But I find myself playing it over and over again,
just for the song.
I've recently realized that I miss a lot of people.
I miss her.
I miss him.
I miss another her.
I miss another him.
The list could go for a while.
I have a novel on one side of me,
and my journal on the other.
I never knew that a small, tan, suede book could have power over me,
but it does.
I can hold the book open,
pen poised in my writing hand.
It's just a book.
Sheets of paper, as thin as the seconds that pass;
a pen: plastic, metal, ink.
These weapons leave me motionless.
I can't leave a mark on the page.
I can't transfer thoughts from my heart to my hand.
The clock flashes in the opposite end of my room,
obviously the power went out today while I studied the insides of my eyelids.
I need company.
I need a cigarette.
I need to escape.
The attempt at comedy on the television illuminates the room.
I don't even know where I am anymore.
I don't even know who I am.
More than anything,
I am a robot,
my daily motions written somewhere in an all-knowing book.
Again, a book.
The book that leaves me speechless. |
| | Posted 3/12/2009 12:39 AM - 2 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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