it rained for 24 hours in taiwan. all i could think was somebody up there must be awfully sad…
it’s six o’clock and there’s what looks like watered-down blood and I’ve got this feeling like nothing is right but I think maybe that’s my default
there’s water splashing down thru my ears and it could be that blood but it’s drowning my brain
and the way it stays in that cube
the way it stays in that cube—
and I think I’m turning, the world is turning. I think the walls are falling west with me confined inside
strapped down for the trip and I’m there.
All the sudden I’m there and what was up is now down and what was down before mustn’t have been down really at all
And it makes you wonder—how many times can
I “know now for sure”
which blue thing is the sky—
It’s not always blue anyway, sometimes it’s gray but that’s just a mask.
black and blue is true, gray is just a mask.
Now it’s six:twelve o’clock and I can tell that time doubled itself just to accommodate me
I’ve always been bigger than I am meant to be
or at least take up more space.
it’s like telling a vacuum to stretch out, like telling me to use space when there is not enough of me to “be” in the first place