walked home past all the houses and the dry leaves crunching underfoot, hearing the whiskey bottle jig. walked past an old car where inside kids were smoking marijuana hiding. i gave them a look that must have put terror in their bellies, i could imagine the nagging paranoia and the strange delusion of a dream that it may seem; 3 in the morning with nothing but the sound of wind and then all of a sudden hearing the madness pulling up the sidewalk, eyes all bright, the muffled sound of despair trying to escape from out of my chest, a world of noise descending from the pits of the dying night. i could already feel the air changing. i cannot remove their faces from my own, & i can only wonder if they feel the same. inside the house was quiet and removed from the world.

i made a sandwich, watched exactly 5 minutes of television constantly flipping through the channels and my dog underneath begging incessantly. sometimes i imagine his cries of pain as he fell from the stool, wriggling unable in the flash of an instant to jump as he used to. a dull pain sits in my head and will not go away. i pile the dishes and drink a glass of water as fast as i can. i want nothing. there is nothing in this world for me at this hour; i climb into bed and stare off towards tomorrow. i hate thinking about tomorrow. when i turn the light off i remark to myself that its better without the light. somehow everything has eased off, like going down a slide. maybe the dreams will be good. i know when i close my eyes that i won't remember the instant of conscious realization in its last breath, that thought however illuminating will cease to exist because i won't remember. sometimes i edge my mind at this point hovering for the epiphany and then when it comes i turn the light back on and scramble for some paper and a pen to write it down. the problem is that when you do this it fails to hold together as wonderfully as it did in your mind. so in writing it down it becomes the same exercise as living; never quite what you considered it to be in your mind. these fractured visions pollute the serenity of an ignorance. its not something to want, only an aspiration of a weary mind and body that simply want to exist without having to consider anything. let it be, & another sleep comes on, another move in my transport towards the end.