composite photo: self-portrait & shadows on jute rug.
I wake up in a room I didn't rent. Where the walls once bore pictures, there are rectangles of unblemished paint. The wooden floor is bare and worn. The place is empty of furniture. I don't know what street I'm on, what city I'm in...
I haven't looked out the window yet. I'm just sitting on the floor, watching the shadows move across the wall. Calm.
Ghosts come and go.
I am not frightened.
This is a waking dream.
This is the mind telling the mind stories.
9 comments:
That is absolutely beautiful, as is the composite photo of your lovely self.
I love the last two lines.
Let me tell you the last dream I remember:
I was naked on a motorcycle with James Purefoy, who was deliciously naked as well, and all along the roadway, other vehicles were stopped after having had accidents but me and James? We just rode on through with style and ease. Alas, I woke up before I could molest/be molested by him. *le sigh*
My god, Phlegmy! I hope some version of that is outside the window.
how about taking it from there to see where it will end? just keep going.
intriguing photo. I detect amusement and sorrow, bewilderment and understanding. or perhaps simple detachment?
Edvard. The room is not entirely fictional, at least not emotionally.
It's the realization that, for the first time in over 35 years (having broken things off with the new boyfriend)there is no man in my life.
All the adjectives.."amusement and sorrow, bewilderment and understanding..." etc., apply. I think...I think I may feel sort of excited about this. Excited about the possibilities of a clean, empty room...in absolutely no hurry to fill it. Make sense?
I always end up flying if possible.
But for that you must open the window.
Hello Goatman.
I don't need to move yet. I think I need the gravity.
Clean room, blank page. Exciting lj.
love the image. How do you do that? I am no tech head, so therefor have no idea!
Ooh ta!
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