aspirations:
I want to fall asleep in a dark room. Wake up, light coming through the curtains and the silk. Float in jellyfish arms. I’ll wake up one day and stand out there in my underwear; breathe on the window and press my fingers onto it. Outside, there are other things happening but meanwhile I watch motes of dust alight on wooden floors. I’ll think about things like how silence is a sound and how some scientific research is leaning towards the brain’s processing of experience being one step behind the actual present. Think about the present, laugh all of it off. How I won’t remember this later.
Imagine myself in fog. Fall into it, wet eggsplats in the face. I could learn french in a perfect accent, read Baudelaire. Anything at all. I see myself sitting in a dental office. There are diplomas on the walls and a jug with a handle that moves. Success is a word, as is also dendrites. I wake up lost in dark. Run through rows of beech trees. I think, maybe I’ll go out for coffee. Sit in a diner like an american movie. Watch the people pass me by.
