16/02/2013 § Leave a comment
08/02/2013 § Leave a comment
Last night I painted my walls black with all kinds of hell but as I slept I sleepwalked them white and woke smiling. I told myself I think too much, that I should lighten up. Myself told I if we jumped from a rooftop, gravity would not lighten up. I heard a story once that birds sitting on telephone wires decide the direction of their flight from the flow of conversation beneath them. It was winter and I told you this down the phone then said ‘south, south. 180 degrees from 0. 90 degrees on a sine graph’. You asked me what the hell I was doing, I said I was trying to keep them warm.
No matter how I let the sun shine on my skin I will never tan. I suit winter, my veins are blue, my skin is pale. The snow always reminds me of the holocaust, and sometimes when it snows I cry remembering images I have seen. There is a kind of comfort in the horror of a mass grave, singular graves are lonely places. Most mass graves were shallow and birds used bones to build their homes in skeleton trees and hold the ice away.