You dream of a feeling you've only ever felt before in a prior dream of an alternate form of your current reality.
You wake up thirsty.
You wake up thirsty wearing no shirtsleeves. Your shoestrings are tied in knots. It is hot. Your feet- actually, your entire body- is disgustingly dirty. It seems like something is burning.
It smells as if something is burning. You are on fire. You've soaked through blue bed-sheets. You are on fire with desire; under such heat. You're terribly sweaty (more internally than externally or anything) and your breath stinks. Something stings.
A memory of death stains the plain (as in ordinary) carpet. Not regret, yet the idea of regret begins pulling at your conscience then ripping (yanking, really) out your "yucky" teeth. Blood puddles on your chest; you start smoking a freshly rolled cigarette; you feel cold even though you are still above coals. Your heart skips (or simply forgets to beat).
Your head feels heavy. Your ears are ringing. Your legs ache and burn. You have a vision.
You have a vision; this vision tells you to turn on the television. You turn on the T.V.
Within this T.V. you see:
1. Everything.
2. Your picture and/or reflection.
3. A hologram of your most recent failure/ your latest rejection.
4. Your skeleton. Then, your mother's skin turned inside out.
5. A half-empty glass full of optimism mixed with doubt.
6. The President-Elect's penis (which makes you feel so sick; although, you do not vomit).
7. Fred Thomas- gone completely crazy, deranged and insane- sitting inside the ancient bricks of an alter or some kind of shrine, smiling dumbly, clutching his knees whilst back and forth rocking, counting his teeth (which resemble tiny rocks or pebbles that he is holding in between the fingers on his hands- his hands which are shaking uncontrollably).
You "flip" off the T.V./television then proceed to flip this entire empire-of-a-world the bird.
You wake up thirsty.
You wake up thirsty wearing no shirtsleeves. Your shoestrings are tied in knots. It is hot. Your feet- actually, your entire body- is disgustingly dirty. It seems like something is burning.
It smells as if something is burning. You are on fire. You've soaked through blue bed-sheets. You are on fire with desire; under such heat. You're terribly sweaty (more internally than externally or anything) and your breath stinks. Something stings.
A memory of death stains the plain (as in ordinary) carpet. Not regret, yet the idea of regret begins pulling at your conscience then ripping (yanking, really) out your "yucky" teeth. Blood puddles on your chest; you start smoking a freshly rolled cigarette; you feel cold even though you are still above coals. Your heart skips (or simply forgets to beat).
Your head feels heavy. Your ears are ringing. Your legs ache and burn. You have a vision.
You have a vision; this vision tells you to turn on the television. You turn on the T.V.
Within this T.V. you see:
1. Everything.
2. Your picture and/or reflection.
3. A hologram of your most recent failure/ your latest rejection.
4. Your skeleton. Then, your mother's skin turned inside out.
5. A half-empty glass full of optimism mixed with doubt.
6. The President-Elect's penis (which makes you feel so sick; although, you do not vomit).
7. Fred Thomas- gone completely crazy, deranged and insane- sitting inside the ancient bricks of an alter or some kind of shrine, smiling dumbly, clutching his knees whilst back and forth rocking, counting his teeth (which resemble tiny rocks or pebbles that he is holding in between the fingers on his hands- his hands which are shaking uncontrollably).
You "flip" off the T.V./television then proceed to flip this entire empire-of-a-world the bird.
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