sometimes when you're on the verge of consciousness, thinking about something,one by one, one thing leads to another, layer upon layer of memory and guesswork until it takes you a while to remember just what you were thinking of at the start. and then it happens all over again, this time, different things appearing at random. possibly, it's just the sheer exhaustion of your mind, with the variations of many colours blending and bleeding, freezeframes of that place and that time just slip in and out, saturating and fading.
there's the awkward in between stage, between where you are now, and where you were; what you are, and what you want to be. semi-conscious, that's what they call it. and it leaves you with a sort of void, feeling emptiness, like in an unoccupied subway station, with the stark contrast to the great crush of humanity during rush hours. but it doesn't last long, just like the moments of darkness in between blinks of the eye; it rarely stays till your senses awaken. and it's human again.
bit by bit, the emotions surface from the delves within, nostalgia the first to hit home. counting the hours since each motion, with the forms of old recalling. regret shines through, like sunlight penetrating through thin white screens. melancholy suspended like dust particles in the air, stagnant, as if awaiting for a breeze or wind to carry it away. tasks and to-dos on post-its seem to remind you of existance, reality, and you brush it to a side, out of sight, out of mind: denial in your state of dream.
and as fast as everything has been happening, tipsy whims and fancies lift you lightly, gently off your feet, soaring above marshmallow and cotton candy clouds of pink, as you feel yourself drift away with stardust into the metro skies. second star to the right, then straight on till morning. go, skim the clouds, far far away. a sweet escape, but with a heavier kind of sweet, almost too much to bear - Man weren't meant to ride with clouds between their knees.
there's the awkward in between stage, between where you are now, and where you were; what you are, and what you want to be. semi-conscious, that's what they call it. and it leaves you with a sort of void, feeling emptiness, like in an unoccupied subway station, with the stark contrast to the great crush of humanity during rush hours. but it doesn't last long, just like the moments of darkness in between blinks of the eye; it rarely stays till your senses awaken. and it's human again.
bit by bit, the emotions surface from the delves within, nostalgia the first to hit home. counting the hours since each motion, with the forms of old recalling. regret shines through, like sunlight penetrating through thin white screens. melancholy suspended like dust particles in the air, stagnant, as if awaiting for a breeze or wind to carry it away. tasks and to-dos on post-its seem to remind you of existance, reality, and you brush it to a side, out of sight, out of mind: denial in your state of dream.
and as fast as everything has been happening, tipsy whims and fancies lift you lightly, gently off your feet, soaring above marshmallow and cotton candy clouds of pink, as you feel yourself drift away with stardust into the metro skies. second star to the right, then straight on till morning. go, skim the clouds, far far away. a sweet escape, but with a heavier kind of sweet, almost too much to bear - Man weren't meant to ride with clouds between their knees.
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