wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.

awesome. another morning and no completion. no absolution.

i swear to god im going to kill something.

but then you walk in and the strangely colored tentacles which flow through your head and outward catch my eye. they dance while i watch, amazed once again.

you pick up the guitar and play a song i have never heard before. but its familiar. the tentacles flow higher and dance as you play. the colors become much more vibrant and pulse with your rhythms.

i watch your fingers glide, they show me things ive never seen before. your melody lifts me off the bed and up against the ceiling. everythings much clearer from up here, theres so much room to actually move around now. the tentacles follow me upwards and pulsate all around me.

you say you cant stay, you have something in the oven. on the ceiling, i can barely hear you speak over the strings as you play. the tentacles begin to withdraw from me and slide downward. the colors begin to drain back to their normal shades. the pulsing calms, the melody stops, and you are gone, gone to tend to your oven. but im still on the ceiling.

god only knows how long ill be here.

posted by crimson @ 10:24 PM

|