rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,


So rain came-- soft, slow, spring rain of the sort that lures me into nostalgia which then devours hours as though they were minutes. I begin by wondering where one thing or another from the past has gone, and emerge from this indulgent reverie wondering where the night has gone. I sent messages to people I haven't heard from in decades, about things I'd nearly forgotten until the sound of rain dissolved some blockage in my memory and they washed up into consciousness. I used to get fits of nostalgia most frequently in autumn, but in recent years early spring has become more apt to induce them. Maybe the subtle scents of growing things suggests to my subconscious those times when almost all I knew was new and growing and I had little past. Or maybe, now that my past is much larger, it is turning to mental mulch and trying to grow something new in the appropriate season. These are peculiar flowers, though, that blossom in long-vanished fields and have the shapes of faces never to be seen again. I pluck them and arrange them and know that they will soon turn to dust as they have done before. Of dust itself, there's never an end.

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Twenty-Seven

    Once again I got up way too late on Thursday, and now I'm awake way too late on Friday morning. Sometime in the next few days I expect I'll wake up…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Twenty-Six

    The entire middle of Wednesday vanished into sleep, except for a few minutes here and there when I woke up briefly being either too hot or, when the…

  • Reset Twenty-One, Day Twenty-Five

    Tuesday gave me a headache, though I don't know why. It might be my neck getting further out of place. It might also have been because I kept…

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.