Absurd Thoughts in a Time of Burning-Away
three useless musings.
They who move at three o’clock in the morning are either beasts or madmen, both awaiting a time when they may finally emerge from beneath the fallen leaves and redeem themselves to a world which abandoned them.
I wear no socks to bed: even when it is cold outside and the rain breaks through the windows. I wear no socks to bed, so that I can dream of running barefoot across the sands of a shoreline just out of reach, with the sun breathing life into my senseless bones so that I can finally untie my marionette strings, and live without fear of curtain-fall.
The wounded and the bleeding are the most fortunate of sufferers, for they are full of that sharp and acute demand for survival. Then there are the heartbreakers and the heartbroken — whirling about in endless dance as one picks up something the other abandons. At last there come the weary — for they feel nothing and want nothing — and so are no different to the dead.
