Raining, Tuesday Night
It's raining outside my tree house. It sounds forlorn and hollow. Instead of restful, it puts me on edge, like I'm listening to trees being scrubbed with sandpaper.
My arms and legs are full of lead tonight. My smile is broken. I feel disconnected from the air around me, as if there's a vacuum bubble.
My computer makes a desperate whirring noise, vital and serious, an endless intake of breath lest it overheat and die. My computer wants to live, so it grinds on, complains little, and hopes to maintain the status quo.
Likewise my heart beats on because a small part of my brain tells it not to stop. That part of the brain is so primitive it resembles the brain of a lizard. It's pure determination. Keep pumping. Just keep pumping.
It doesn't ask why.
My arms and legs are full of lead tonight. My smile is broken. I feel disconnected from the air around me, as if there's a vacuum bubble.
My computer makes a desperate whirring noise, vital and serious, an endless intake of breath lest it overheat and die. My computer wants to live, so it grinds on, complains little, and hopes to maintain the status quo.
Likewise my heart beats on because a small part of my brain tells it not to stop. That part of the brain is so primitive it resembles the brain of a lizard. It's pure determination. Keep pumping. Just keep pumping.
It doesn't ask why.
2 Comments:
Sometimes reflexes and instincts are all that keep us alive... Though that doesn't make us any less human, I suppose.
Cheer up, you cute son-of-a-bitch ;-)
You're giving me the Blues!
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