walk a lonely mile obscured by clouds and the brain-fuzz of the work-a-day lifestyle slowly destroying my impulses are slowing down. there were times when the future seemed so far away I felt I couldn’t cope these days it’s a little different the future’s merely an unknown quantity time slows down mired in the present i struggle to feel useful rather than convenient i feel time flowing through me »
the music starts slow reptilian quiet animal noises underscore a descending bass line like you’re watching a day of re-creation it’s their turn now i feel obsolete already. my spirit aches now remembering the time of the week and thinking of what i’d rather do tomorrow. sit me on something that’s moving and take me away anywhere out of here we’ll start over just the two of us a quiet »
dream: I’m in a bare room, near the front of the house – I know this because I can hear people passing on the (rather busy) street outside. A housemate hums to herself, wandering the hallway while I sit on the floor and hug my knees. I’m not sure what we’re waiting for, but I hop up to look out the window at the passing human traffic when I notice some graffiti scrawled on the walls – one bit says “Ross Wilson gig, [day]/[month]/’77”. »