Sometimes these things just fall out of my head and I make a habit of keeping a pen and notepad on me at all times, just in case whether it’s for doodles or some writing. I hope you can understand some of the things I am trying to say. The least personal stuff will go on here, everything else remains in my notebook.



The trees sway as a drunk man in slow motion, forth and back. Back and forth.
They compete with who can move in the most beautiful way, one tree against the other.

Their movements are hypnotic in the just-before-dawn sky with a silvery sheen coating my windows. The rain is spotted on the glass as if a child has flicked her paintbrush mischievously all over the world around me, coating everything with her playful chaos.

Where she sleeps is with the wind, brushing her cold, swollen cheeks against the softness of the ferns outside. She’s running with a true freedom I can only imagine for a moment before money gets in the way.
Something knocks impatiently within me. I watch these trees moving with such an elegance that it makes me long to be with them, outside and open as if I have some memory of being that free before. It makes me smile sadistic that what should separate me from the dance are sheets of thick glass. Robust, safe, man-made glass confining me in this painting I’ve created for myself.

The world and its’ oceans are too busy to look in at me while they busy themselves with the universe, too busy to look on at me as I watch them. The windows are designed to be looked out of, for me to see this cinema of the heavens while I remain too small, too invisible, too weak and too scared to join them with the animal I know I am inside.

And they move and they move and they move forever, beautifully with every leaf rippling with shine like a sea of people in celebration and the sounds of a jungle echoing out of them, where another life exists so different to mine. A bird is building. She doesn’t even notice me.
I am jealous of her purpose, she has a reason to be awake and has nothing to watch. As I sit here unable to sleep hating it when the sounds of cars set in. Stay with me bright night and allow me somehow to walk barefoot on your cold, wet earth and be part of you, on the other side of the glass. I will dance with you. I will move in the same way; beautifully and without consciousness until I sleep.


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