Today I sat in a magic park, of green lawns and water fountains, Buildings that seemed to be sticking their chests out with pride. "look how wonderful we are" they said, and I nodded in agreement.
I watched a group of modern day hippies, gesticulating wildly so you could feel their sincerity from across the pond. They talked about politics, about literature, about music, about love. They vowed to keep their locks forever.
Then bowling pins started cascading across the landscape in perfect rhythm, and all the pigeons turned in to multicoloured doves.
was I really here? was this really happening?
I plunged in and out of my book, the scenes in front of me, reality.
I dreamed of all the people I wanted to be, none of them who I was, or probably even capable of being. I fought against time and geography wishing you all here, or me there. I was happy to be alone in my private wonderland, yet couldn't help but scan the lawn for a familiar face or a Cheshire Cat.
I was overwhelmed with sensation, drowned in dramatic sentiments, crawling with ants, sinking into the moist grass.
I felt so full that I covered my mouth to keep from projectile vomiting thoughts and feelings everywhere.
I walked the streets, not knowing where I was, occasionally ignoring the landmarks in their attempts to tip me off. I was lost in thought and lost in body, I welcomed the rare fluidity of these two opposing forces.
took mental pictures, scribbling mental notes below them.
How everything was so beautiful and so unsettling. this is someones world. everyday. not mine. I am displaced. momentarily. long term, who knows.
I just keep walking, trying to exhaust myself into sleep. To shut my eyes and store all of my moments, that they might ferment together inside of me, making shape of my future.
Time passes, and I can't stay lost. I've been here too long to pretend.
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