rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


All night the heat in the house, like that heat stored up in pavements and brick walls long past, tugged my thoughts toward years I thought let go. Again, I try to break through some barrier I can't even define, make my way in words to what dimly comes to mind, the place where, I imagine, this vague sense of dissatisfaction isn't. Inchoate night.

Also, I've been wondering where the hell these came from.

At the moment, I anticipate a season of ever increasing strangeness.

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