Sunday, June 2, 2013

Surreal Shapes in the Sunday Shade.

Hey there blog land. How's your Sunday? Can you believe it's June? We're almost halfway through the year. In another month, I'll have done this for a year. It's been a while since I've just written some quiet and low key. No talk of romance and math. No talk of dogs. Just a chance to put fingers on keys and type.
What would you do for a Klondike bar, and is there a wrong way to eat one? Ever had a perfect line you wanted to use for something, but found it was the equivalent of a dead end? Long cat sure is long.
There is no feeling like the one you get when you wake up in a strange place. The trees stretch miles high and the people are strange. The field you wake up in stretches miles in front of you in sea of blue. There's someone next to you, but you can't think with the fog in your brain. I feel 15 again as I try to make her clothes come off with the power of mind. Hell, I could go with a nipple slip.
The world and it's perspective changes. Sometimes I see him, or you, or sometimes he and you are me. We stand and we walk, because something is controlling our legs. As we move forward in the world, the grass grows up around us and wraps around the trees. It crisses and crosses and merge into beautiful patterns. But they quickly fade from your mind as we journey forward. You look to your right and ask the girl walking next to you where you're going.
Мы идем к месту, где улицы не имеют названия. She says.
Мы вечные. Мы бессмертны.
We nod our head at the gibberish.  I turn as you, he and she keep walking. I stop for a drink at the bar. A man with a familiar face stands there.
당신은 무엇을 하시겠습니까? He asks.
Два пива.
He spins. There's a shoe in his hand. You thank him and walk out the door.
Outside, on the sidewalk, we wrap ourselves in our jacket as the wind goes past our skin. The streets are empty, and the city makes no sound. A police officer walks up to you and pushes you over. We fall, and protest. The cop kicks me. A sharp pain builds in our body as we feel the force. Hours go by. You see feet going by your face and wonder why no one stops him. And then it stops. You stand up, but the field is empty. It stretches in all sides like a blue ocean. A girl lays sleeping on the ground, and you wonder if maybe the world is different in a different direction.