states


I’m not asleep and I’m not awake. And as my love drifts from Oklahoma to California my mind drifts through states of consciousness. Reality and unreality combine to form a mess of collective chaos. It doesn’t seem to matter what time I enter this melancholy pit for I still awake at the same time… early and unrested. Occasionally I awake hopeful, hopeful that there may be something to read from someone. This hope is crushed as soon as I arise fully from the clouds of sleep and realise that everyone is engaged in their own lives. I’m happy for them. I am happy for my love in Los Angeles for I know that she must be excited and that there must be a reason. I picture her at this moment, sat in a Mexican restaurant, talking about recordings and songs and love and dreams and London and Paris and the strange men who give their hearts for no particular reason. I see one in Oklahoma who seems to believe that he is her boyfriend. Perhaps he even believes it. He writes things in public that seem foolish in their obvious attempt to convince strangers that there is something more. The temptation fills us all but there is no point in pretending we have something when we have nothing at all. There’s just this process of crumbling. Crumbling family, health, love, mind, body, work. Outside the sun seems severe today and through the sunrise birdsong stirs us closer to the harsh sharpness of an exhausted state of awake. And yet, in spite of this, it promises to be a good day.

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