The Dreams I Had Last... opening Fragment.....

    

    The dreams I had last night seem to have lodged themselves in my lower back. I cannot stand up straight. My head is listing to one side. It pulls me around the apartment in circles while I try to make coffee. The thought of going outside is unbearable, but the dog has that look on his face that reminds me how long it's been. And now the radio has begun it's daily attack- song after song piled up before me to call my faults and losses into the light.

    I spent the last two hours in bed striving to stay in that liminal zone between this world and the other. The place of no roads, and all roads, skipping over and through each other suggesting solutions to the problems that plague my waking hours. If I could grab the ends  of those threads, even just one, and pull it through with me when my body finally forces me above the waves to tend to the idiot drives of the flesh. Piss, shit, coffee, masturbation, food.

    Could I find some drug that would let me stay down there just below the ocean, watching the light from this world filter down softly in green and blues? I know of some. But the side affects are all the same. They will hold you there, half buoyant, for a while. But then of course the drug itself demands renewal, and demands it of the flesh, so ejects me from the sea to tend again to the processes, the dull algorithms of living.

     I light a cigarette and stare out the half open curtains for a while. So this is loneliness?

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