Cosmic Mist
Bluelighter
I'm falling through space and time, through this abyss that i cannot even see or name. I'm falling for no reason. I'm falling through my own stupidity and fear. I'm falling...
... and i'm alone.
I'm falling because i cannot feel your touch. I cannot hear your sweet words in my ear, nor your soft touch on my cheek. I cannot even begin to know by which image you choose to present yourself these days, nor how you call yourself - you've had so many identities throughout your life - shall we add this new image to the burning, frameless pile also?
Or shall we indulge our senses for just a little but? Shall we imagine that this is a perfect world, that all things are equal, and that times really aren't as they really are? Or shall we just pretend that this thing we are experiencing is not real - just a figment of an over-stimulated imagination - a combination of over-tiredness and stress...
...you can even be the girl with kaelidescope eyes if you want, dancing underneath cellophane flowers of yellow and green, under a marmelade sky. What a ridiculously romantic idea that could be! We could wander lost in a hazy diamond-esque fantasy, cheapened only by the fact that at least one of us knows that this is not real, and that, sooner or later, everything around us will collapse and we will return to a dull grey playing field with nothing but the concrete to protect us from the ground...
...and how solid that ground will be when we finally hit it - the finality in its rough, uneven surface more awakening than your 0630h alarm call - that sudden explosion in your left ear drum as you sleep safe and secure in yet another fantasy full of all your subconscious delights and fears. How unbiased it will be in welcoming you with an unyielding solidity, smashing you and breaking you down to the part that help to make you whole...
I'm still falling. I feel that perhaps you maybe too.
Perhaps we are falling into the same position - merely opposing side to the same story, destined to colide together when the time and place are right. WIll you still go by the same name i have always associated with you? Will i still be in possession of eyes that recognise your visage, ears that comprehend your speech, a sense of curiosity and compasion that will allow me the patient to make such a horrific collision worthwhile?
Only time will tell.
Until that time, i guess i'm still falling...
... and i'm alone.
I'm falling because i cannot feel your touch. I cannot hear your sweet words in my ear, nor your soft touch on my cheek. I cannot even begin to know by which image you choose to present yourself these days, nor how you call yourself - you've had so many identities throughout your life - shall we add this new image to the burning, frameless pile also?
Or shall we indulge our senses for just a little but? Shall we imagine that this is a perfect world, that all things are equal, and that times really aren't as they really are? Or shall we just pretend that this thing we are experiencing is not real - just a figment of an over-stimulated imagination - a combination of over-tiredness and stress...
...you can even be the girl with kaelidescope eyes if you want, dancing underneath cellophane flowers of yellow and green, under a marmelade sky. What a ridiculously romantic idea that could be! We could wander lost in a hazy diamond-esque fantasy, cheapened only by the fact that at least one of us knows that this is not real, and that, sooner or later, everything around us will collapse and we will return to a dull grey playing field with nothing but the concrete to protect us from the ground...
...and how solid that ground will be when we finally hit it - the finality in its rough, uneven surface more awakening than your 0630h alarm call - that sudden explosion in your left ear drum as you sleep safe and secure in yet another fantasy full of all your subconscious delights and fears. How unbiased it will be in welcoming you with an unyielding solidity, smashing you and breaking you down to the part that help to make you whole...
I'm still falling. I feel that perhaps you maybe too.
Perhaps we are falling into the same position - merely opposing side to the same story, destined to colide together when the time and place are right. WIll you still go by the same name i have always associated with you? Will i still be in possession of eyes that recognise your visage, ears that comprehend your speech, a sense of curiosity and compasion that will allow me the patient to make such a horrific collision worthwhile?
Only time will tell.
Until that time, i guess i'm still falling...
