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16 July 2018 @ 11:22 pm
before the morning comes the story's told  
it’s a year of water, the water of the year, a year of tears, a year of

i left my body, as most of us do, a thousand twenty times in one day. but this time, i thought to look backward, bent over myself arched over this latest form of abyss. my breathing erratic and my head dropped sideways. my breath and my understanding, coming either in startling bursts or not at all. looking down at myself, i thought to send this uncanny stranger some indication of my presence. so i leaned in. gave myself a kiss. my eyes startled open, rose petals of light still spilling my field of vision and then dissipating themselves into cold films of rosewater spiked bathwater clinging to my every surface not immersed in the chilly tub: except my ears, covered by the headphone cushions

the music is outside / it’s happening outside / the music is outside / the music is outside

outside the music swells and recedes like a thought like a strange after thought after thought after thinking we could be any manner of thing in our thoughts any shape we take any shape necessary to fill the room look out over it look

there's something outside of this. there's something outside of me. there's something we don't know about, something that's coming for us slowly, slowly, coming for us all at once like that you know it you know there's something like that there always is in these sorts of situations in this manner of business there's always something going on of this nature. it's who we are. it's how we be who we are. there's something outside of this. there's something happening outside of this. listen for it, learn to speak its language. learn its customs, its daily routine. learn what it wants, what it needs, what it's looking for


 
 
music: tear ceremony - hello young lovers