16.6.12

# 13 || fever-dreams

I.




II.

It's the little things, like finding the colour nailpolish I want on my fingers and toes for the rest of my adventure. You won't ever see anything properly unless you have a closer look, everything is worth a second glance and a moment's contemplation. It devestates me sometimes that I won't know everybody and everything, for lack of time or interest or pennies or something. The humidity induces the queerest dreams, lately I am waking up not knowing where or who I am, aching with these incredible pangs of nostalgia and uncertainty. But I think I know now, the point of all of this. It's to learn and love solitude, it's to crave fear and the invaluable teachings you learn from being afraid, it's to be vanquish your retrospective tendencies, it's growing up. Someday soon I have got to forget that we ascertain our superpowers at different times, and remember that good things come to those who wait. If I'm stumbling for a little while, eventually when I do level out - it'll be better than ever. Like seeing your family after a really long time, like wine and cheese, like home videos, like McDonald's when you've been driving all day down the h i g h w a y.

  
III.

"I am not mistaken in the emptiness of evenings
serious and unequivocal
he would say
how beautiful is forgetting!
what a relief it would be for the world to lose some of its contents
he rose from his knees blushing more and more deeply in wave after wave of everything
all attempts are transient and easy to dissolve
reducing life is not a sin
it is sometimes necessary" — Tree of Codes

   
 
IV.
It's knowing where and who you are.
It's being able to breathe.
It's a fairytale moment.
It's being real lost.
It's you, just you.
It's amnesia.

x