Skip to content


September 20, 2010

Agitation. It starts somewhere under the surface like an itch. Spreads out to the surface like a restless tension that threatens to disturb my sleep.

Sleep. That’s what it is. A layer of dampness that insulates from the outside. A fuzzy layer. Deflecting honking horns and honking egos alike.

Desert. Subtle changes. Where dampness is wicked off into the atmosphere. Where you cannot help but reach outside yourself. Where the sound of crickets and the sounds of rocks create this buzz that starts vibrating through your veins and through your bones and before you know if you’re in love.

Wild. Where death and life are two sides of the same coin. Where you could be swallowed at any given moment. Where there is no layer of insulation. No billboards and shopping malls to provide safety. Where, hand in hand with death, you cannot help but feel alive.

No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: