I woke up with a start
- I immediately feared rising water levels, burning rays of sunshine fashioning my skin into a leathery coffin, and smog.
The worst of it was the smog didn't seem so bad, in the end. The least of many evils, like a stinging bee in the midst of a pack of wild boars; a hint of piquant wit in my bowl of habaneros.
After the leather was worked out a bit and made flexible by wear and the water became covered by boats of all colours and sizes, the smog was still there. It began to sit and stink and tire me completely, with it's sad persistence.
- by the time I was fully awake and rolled over with my legs hanging over the bedside I was in a right awful mood. The sun was still there, glaring hotly at me through thin shades, and I was late already; a perpetuality I'd grown accustomed to through years of sloth and lack of motivation. Somehow it aided and abetted the nightmarish fantasies; laze begat painful rumination begat masochistic narcissism, and all because we were angry at ourself for not fixing anything.
Self-appointed non-fixer of those things seemingly non-broken, I slathered some soap about on that once-leathery surface, I showered in the water that I'd feared so accutely only minutes before, and I slid on some shaded glasses as I headed out the door into a world of smog so thin, so ethereal, that it would be easy enough to discount.. as if it was a dream, really. A nightmare that had never really happened..
- and I fixed nothing.
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the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil
