
No Never Mind
Ha-ha-ha. On and off. Switching pitch and intonation. Yet constant in meaning. Meanness. O-yes. O-o-oh. Echo’s from the past gyrating in my heart. Voices wilting in my head. Distinctly I can hear them, the chloridized damp air carrying their intangible bodies to me. Almost factorylike it achromatizes — with its peroxidial breath — all the colours, stripping away my feelings. One by one by one by one. Begone. Leaving me grazing in this emotional lowland, a dolorous wasteland of poignant toxicities.
Swimmingpool mémoires des vies. Crispy and condoned by a film of dehumified H2O. Me, centrally located in this asphyxiating rainforest, I feel the dreary is bleak and bleaching. Muffled and restrained. My lungs implode, cave in and then again fold up, reminding me of this uncommon choreography of origami acteurs. A feeling so evident. The cant of the catacombs. Clarity without serenity. An equilibrium of sobriety is broken. Coolheadedness is an even temper, tempered and diluted by a lack of moderation. A counterpoise disrupted by counterbalance. Restraining and soothing I cannot seem to find in here. Echo’s from the past hydrating this tasteless land.
Pardon Sir? Well just look te other way — swimming naked in his own vulnerability.
