My pupils swell and fall and again and again and again. I feel the buzzing of my head softens in darkness and pounds when riding beams of light. I shake like a motherfucker.
My toes in wool socks are never warm and the thought of turning the lights out and sleeping makes me more tired by the minute.
What is that breathing?
Perhaps and out of body experience here or there would mean nothing to someone who actually knew what it was.
Am I speaking aloud or in English to you now?
My knees are locked and I'm shaking.
My hands are sweaty and I'm shaking.
My eyes are closed and I'm shaking.
Sit still for just one second.
You were tired just a minute ago. What you're not tired anymore? Why did you throw up a rope and climb out after you know you so relish falling in? Look, well now you've gone and done it. We'll be up for ages now.
You weren't conscious of responsibility or doubt or respect or self loathing or anxiety or fear or fate or love.
You weren't conscious of pity or sorrow or loss or grief or spontaneity or worry or hope.
You weren't conscious of warmth or pain or comfort or consciousness.
Please, rest your eyes, and stop shaking.
YOU ARE READING
depreciation they claim
Non-Fictiona collection of thoughts, assessments, dreams, observations, lusts, loves, unthinkables, oddities, morbidity, and dark yet comforting humor and perspective.
