Thursday 5 June 2008

...

Not entirely tired. No. Just a slight hint of fatigue as impersonal as a brief acquaintance; there is no attempt to bond with the sensation because it will be leaving shortly... It is liberating to be filled with that kind of apathy, but even more liberating to know that the apathy will soon be gone.
But it moves with the speed of light and will be there long before I arrive at my new destination, and I know that it will envelop me once again. For each moment it touches me it slowly becomes part of the way I think, and though it is heavy the weigh seems to be a comfort rather than a burden; not because I like its presence, but because I have grown numb and cannot truly feel it anymore.
Where I saw the dancing colours there is now a sense of grey that wishes its own place among them, as a spectator. It does not want to participate because it feels uncertain of its own abilities.

A thick liquid moves across the floor, almost seeming to grab it as if the liquid itself possessed muscles. It is far easier to watch it indifferently when it teaches my feet and gnaws at my shoes, but it is not numbness that makes me ignore it. It is rather something I thought I saw, something I glimpsed outside. But not long enough.

I am not sure if I woke up.

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