Stream

I woke up this morning, not knowing why, or when, or how. I opened my eyes and I felt and I knew. The world is quiet. Quiet and still. Dim shades of light and shadows of all the hues of grey made up my world. This is the world I see everyday. Intricate patterns and shapes on the ceiling, the picture of a beach at twilight on the wall. I've looked at them again and again, they're always the same, but the answers I try to find in them seem to change. I seem to change. Days, months, years, they were all so well defined once, so limitless. Now as they merge themselves in memory the past seems to leak into the present and I can't tell one from the other even as I live it. And yet now none of them exist. Now is all there is. I should wake, I should get up and walk into the world, into routines and times and things to do and places to be. I should get up. But I don't. I lay here, in this dim glow, entertained by my thoughts of what is and what could be. I'm only humouring myself I know, I can't predict what will happen, why what has happened did, what you or I thought or felt. Only a memory and a perception. Or rather the memory of a perception. How incredibly far from the truth that can be. Still it's nice to wonder. To dream. To hope. I close my eyes.

Out.