I was watching the reflection of the water shimmering on the wooden fence. The movements signal inconsistency and unpredictability, which are a sheer symptom of life’s mental instability. And yet, we have to accept it as it is.
Whenever I hear drunk laughter and shouts, I tend to turn away because I don’t understand.
There is nowhere to escape to. Life is on the kitchen table, on a tree or in the bin. Or an apple that ants and other insects feast on.
What is an apple? Yes, something sweet and juicy. You eat it when it’s ripe (ants and other insects don’t care about ripe). What if it’s rotten? Who cares? I crave an apple pie/Apfelstrudel.
I would cry if I could eat one right now.
I’ve been sleeping with my desk lamp on dim lately. I’ve again heard too many scary stories based on hypnagogia, and I can’t help believing that I will experience another one. It makes me think all that is the side effect or aftermath of quitting anti-depressants over a year ago.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do tonight and what my paranoia will get me into. If I only weren’t alone tonight, but what am I saying? Everyone falls asleep within seconds anyway, leaving me alone in the dark with no shimmer. It’s hard to tell when the shimmer appears.
I almost had yogurt in my tomato soup, but I didn’t want it. Whenever I have soup now, I will think of yogurt and that bloke from London Particular, who won’t believe that I’m not vegan. I refused to have butter on my bread and yogurt in my soup.
Butter = I’m on a diet, okay.
Yogurt + soup = That’s just wrong.
I don’t do creamy soups, even if you just want to help thicken it up. Thanks, but no.
I’m not a vegan. Next time I go there, I will order something with cheese on top. Just to prove them wrong.
Maybe all this is wannabe-fiction anyway. You use it to denounce life’s infinite emptiness, which often shimmers on your bedroom wall. But you can’t fathom those lights. You begin to laugh at your stupidity when realising that their purpose is only for your entertainment. And for you to absorb the beauty with the eye of your mind. You laugh again, and this time because you came up with a joke. Please write it down and tell others before it stagnates and people forget about it. Enhance the punch line and pray they will all laugh to death—one way to feed das, Loch.
The shimmer is all we’ll ever have.
Lights off.