Taking a bath.

There are certain days I can't think of anything at all. I have something in my head and I can feel the melodies streaming and the beats knocking against my forehead and some noise making my skin ache. I can feel words falling apart and letters changing spots. Sentences that make no sense at all and still have to be given some kind of space in a room full of people and devices and people using devices and devices taking over control over people.
Sometimes I don't have any clue of what is going on around me even though it's so clear in front of my eyes. I have to clean my glasses and I have to take them off and take a bath to calm down. There are a bunch of umbrellas walking through the streets in pink and green and blue and black. And all I can think about looking at them is: I want to feel water running down my spine. I want my finger to follow a drop of water running down your spine.

This is no sheet of paper. I can't rip it into pieces after finishing the last word.

Keine Kommentare:

Kommentar veröffentlichen