nocturne, friday

sometimes, late in the night though not too late you are sitting there staring at the computer display with itunes running and the tv on but set to mute.

in such an event, you sooner or later wonder "what the hell am i doing?" then you remember that you were hoping to talk to someone before the medications your doctor prescribed for you to have a decent night's sleep are going to kick in. still, you find yourself defiant; "i can handle it."

yet there is not quite that level of determination you were hoping for. but you wait anyhow, you then start surfing the photostreams of people you like and your won then you stumble onto the epiphaby...

don't try to make too much sense of it, it is the nature of the wandering mind. don't try to understand all and don't try to remember everything. just let it feel you and then let it past...

The underlying cause is as absent as rain.

In a landscape of having to repeat

In a landscape of having to repeat.
Noticing that she does, that he does and so on.
The underlying cause is as absent as rain.
Yet one remembers rain even in its absence and an attendant quiet.
If illusion descends or the very word you’ve been looking for.
He remembers looking at the photograph,
green and gray squares, undefined.
How perfectly ordinary someone says looking at the same thing or
I’d like to get to the bottom of that one.
When it is raining it is raining for all time and then it isn’t
and when she looked at him, as he remembers it, the landscape moved closer
than ever and she did and now he can hardly remember what it was like.

–Martha Ronk