Unanswered textures

In all the unanswered textures of lucid imagination, the real world, the parallel universe and various dimensions… is my nonsensical sense. Which one will I be in tonight, tomorrow or in the hereafter? God’s greatest joke was giving us teeth. Teeth to bite off more than we should and chew till our damned brains implode.

Unanswered textures – smells – colours… have given my soul measles. Abstractly I’m subtracting from the things I care about. They drop away like pictures floating in water, all the way down the river and into the sea where all Shakespeare quotes go to hell, and the poppies flare up in my blood and in my toes. My nails are red and embedded with this world’s residue.

It clings to me. You cling to me. I cling to an idea of you. Ideas everywhere, impositions, half-truths, half-lies and the posters on the platform of your life make you long for butter sweet popcorn and chewy candy, sweet or sour.

At four o clock in the morning, even birds and monkeys can be philosophy, bananas… golden eggs, these musings have more meaning than any useless conversation you had that day. Those conversations mean the world to you – they’re the only things that keep you sane, keep you loving, keep you whole and keep your world spinning. Otherwise you just stand still – trying to make yourself heard in a world full of numbers and no words.

When you think about your homesickness, that crippling feeling when you realise you know where home is but you’re not there, somewhere beyond the rickshaw ride and your iPod you are pursuing undulating love. Question what dimension you’re in again and think of quotes to describe a game of apples. Realise you are nuts instead and contemplate squirrels as if they would make more sense. At four o clock in the morning they probably do.

Sometimes you feel as if there are no more adjectives left in the world, question why you didn’t drown in film, listen to songs you shouldn’t… songs that are like the messenger Hermes… songs that can still evoke emotion, stir up a memory, jump start a sequence of action, define a relationship, bring tears to your eyes, make you smile or get you on to the dance floor. Songs that haunt you as if they were Hamlet’s ghost.

Fall asleep, wake up to an empty stomach, an empty inbox, an empty life. Or look for answers to your textures. Fall asleep and wake up and make more memories – because if don’t, it’s not the loneliness that will break your heart, it’s the boredom.

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