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Saturday |
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we're all in this together. unfortunately. driven mad by consciousness-- either that or consciously asleep. Sparrow showed me his basement apartment-- stout lock, no windows, a smell like the rooms my mother rented to curious men in my youth. he says he has a hard time trusting, staying centered, saying goodbye. he has a hard time. he makes up songs on the sidewalk in time to a bouncing basketball, body beats and breathes, he sings loudly in an otherwise quiet afternoon street. (silence will be the death of you and me.) when he apologizes for being so weird, i tell him we're all receivers of cosmic energies which we each re-transmit differently. does that sound crazy? it made sense to him. and to me. don't you know civilization is the superorganism and we're all just cells in its body, like ants in a colony? it's the ones who don't fit that appeal to me. they've had their antennas clipped... or maybe just grown wings. |
