this is where we look for things
12.15.02 - 10:44
you ask nonsensical questions with no right answers. you ask, where did the sun go? you eat only white cake with pink frosting. the pink is unnaturally bright. it cannot be found. in nature. you walk around in with a rag tied over your eyes, trying to approximate blindness. you eat with your hands and spill cake crumbs all over the floor. you'd pick them up except you can't see where they are. you think about removing your blindfold and decide to go to bed instead. you think about taking off your blindfold in bed since your eyes will be closed anyway while you sleep. you start to untie it and then you're suddenly afraid you'll open your eyes in the middle of the night. you leave your blindfold on. the bed is big and comfortable and you are small and fit neatly into a corner of it. you pull the blankets over your head and fall asleep. you don't wake up in the night. you don't open your eyes. you wake up and everything is dark. you take off the blindfold (finally) and everything is still dark. you check the clock and it's 9:30 already. you ask, where did the sun go? no one answers. there isn't anyone here to listen to your questions, to make up silly answers that would shut you up for a little while. you eat more white cake with pink icing. you pace. you vacuum up the crumbs from your little experiment yesterday. you are increasingly paranoid. you shiver for no reason. you stop washing your hair. you stare at the television for hours on end. you never turn it on. you listen to old bootlegs, exclusively. you like to hear some hissing. you like to hear the glasses tinkling behind the bar in the background. you wander from room to room aimlessly. you make up names for things and laugh when she doesn't know what you're talking about. you leave the window open and there is a wet patch the next morning where the rain has crept in. you close the window and the next morning the wet patch is dry. you wonder if there really is a street named faithless. you hum under your breath. you never make any sense at all.
