They came hidden amongst the explosions as if the fire in the air
had called them. Dragons or fire-snakes, slithering across the night
sky like slow, red lightning. Their roaring laughter echoing with the
explosives calling out for cheerful destruction. For one night every
year they come out to eat that which we choose to forget, every
possibility which never turned reality.
In the morning only burnt out paper tubes remain, reminding us of ourselves.
Then sitting here alone in the darkness with a glass of stale champagne and regrets. It tastes like wet cigarette butts and lost meaning.
I did not sleep very well last night,
but now we are out in the forest and I am relaxing a lot. I just have
to write all these words and then I can curl up and read more about
nutritional science for vegans. It's quite interesting really, and
although I have no longing to become a vegan, I still think it is
great knowledge to have.
I took a lot of photos on the way here.
Some of them might be good despite having been taken in a moving car.
Thinking of the fox that might be
Met a friend of my father
today. Took a lot of photos of the sky and the mountains and the
sunset. Bought more yarn and knitting needles; knitting yet another
scarf, this time bright red and wine red.
I watch the news when I'm
out here. Today the news were unusually depressing. Soldiers peeing
on dead people. Transsexuals still having to put up with
sterilisation in order to be allowed living like they feel they
naturally should. I have no idea how some people can sleep at night.
I think I'll take a walk
tomorrow, but it's really icy here.
arranging and rearranging
find and hide and throw away
tidy and clean and dig deep
after trash-buried treasures
and forgotten floors