thoughts on shuffle

There are places, which make me stop and think for a while.

A lot of these places are in Japan… I can’t say it’s just the small little streets and corners. Sometimes it’s a crowded place in Kyoto, or a nearly empty little street in Shibuya, a playground in Minami Nagareyama, a JR ferry in Hiroshima… They differ from each other so greatly, that I wonder if they are even on the same planet – which obviously they are.
Maybe it is a simple panic attack, or derealization experience I had…
Only, if it wasn’t for that deja-vu… 

I’ll be more precise.

The feeling they give me, makes me stop. Suddenly I have not enough breath in my lungs and my feet stretch to touch the core of the planet. A weird kind of buzzing fills the space between my ears…

I’ve been here before, haven’t I?

by night

I’ve always been afraid of the dark.

My whole life I was scared when the lights went out. When the day dissolved into the night, I crawled, as fast as I could, under my blankets, leaving my reading lamp on. Often the whole night.

But things change…

There is no reading lamp – not anymore. No blankets. I sit in my chair, smoke and wait for the dusk to come. The grayness descends so slowly, carefully, not to scare anyone away.

Emerging from the business of midday, from the productivity others use to care for, the twilight spawns. Slowly unfolding, growing… As if breaking up the surface of reality, the fuzziness within and around things reveals itself.

In those moments I feel my heart beating stronger, louder, faster… As if it would respond to a call, I did not hear in the first place. Ill-defined movements under a dust layer. Left alone, for so many centuries. Left to feel despair, to feel guilt, to feel … myself, my flaws.

Janus

I can’t stop myself from looking at him – snow white skin, hair, dark as chocolate, topaz eyes borrowed from a bird of prey, soft lips, bowed in a mischievous arch – vibrant memories, which won’t  let me sleep, won’t let me close my eyes. Even if I do, I’ll open them up, asap. Feeling his breath, his gaze peeled to whatever there is to be to be noticed in my face.

Even in the darkness of the room, drawn curtains, and the half moon shining… Even in the solid black mist his eyes seems to glow in that strange orange golden light. He seems to emit it, his faces, his mouthes, his shiny teeth… All screaming curiosity.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I´ve never seen someone fall asleep before.”

“What? Never? Why?”

“I never sleep. So I’m curious.”

“Suit yourself.” Indeed, I’m exhausted, and ´bout to fall asleep. “So you never sleep, hm? Do you – ever dream?” My lips move lazily. The bed sheets still hot and messed up. Feeling heavy on my skin.

“Yes. But mine are different from yours. I do not lose myself doing so.” His voice softens, moves closer somewhere near my left temple. “And when you’ll lose yourself, you’ll be empty – a living, breathing hollow shell. Just waiting.” His voice sounds now like a whisper, moves suddenly from my left to the right ear… Of course -forgot- two mouthes. Two tongues. Strangely, they sound the same.

Can’t open my eyes, sleep burns inside of them. It is a soft warm black, that keeps dripping, dissolving into my mind. “Mhm. What for?” Words drop out hazily, I just breathe them out.

“For me, to do as I please… Shhh, now. Go back to sleep…”

thief honor

The blades were rusted

The screeching noise sounds like a banshee cry.

“Put it back! The blades are rusted… Why do you have to be like that?! Looking means looking! With your EYES, not your hands. Why do you touch everything?” I already hear the words in my head, even before she inhales to hiss that answer.

“Because. It´s. INTERESTING!”

“Fine” I can’t hold back and grimace her words. I tell myself to let it go. It is interesting, alright. I turn my back on her and  start to look at some old books and newspapers. One says eighteen-seventy-something. „Through the Looking-Glass?” Oh my god… First edition? Can’t be! Can’t be! Did we just hit jackpot?!

“Look! Look! LOOK!”

I turn round and see a… “What´s that?” A huge rusty sword. Crap, she managed to pull one out of it´s sheath. With both hands, she lifts it over her head and rumbles: “There can be only one!”

“Sssssssshhhhh! Are you crazy?! If they find us!” I try to calm her. Shish! I swing my flashlight through the room. Armors, spears, swords, paintings… What is this place, anyway? Old stuff, even older stuff. Seems to be really antique. I grab that book and shuffle it in my bag.

“Are we thieves now?!” She asks. I didn’t hear her sneak up on me.

„Mmmmhnoooo…?” Or maybe yes. I don’t know. Yet. “I don’t want the rats to read it, and then sleep in it.”

“As if! You’d never deny a rat good literature… Unless. Unless it is valuable literature. You’ve found something worth it, haven’t you?” I don’t like how easily she sees through me.

“Everything here is valuable. It´s a weird attic with everything I find interesting… It´s like we´re in my head.” I tell her and smile, hoping she´d be satisfied with that answer.

“I knew it,“ she snorts. “How much?”

fool moon

Oh, god. Terrible. Ghastly. I’m going to be sea-sick. Or wine-sick, or just… sick.

“Don’t you dare! No! Don’t throw up! I caught that fish! Why did you drink so much wine, anyway?” Her pitching voice drilling itself into my head. More than annoying. Plus… I managed to get myself stuck here, on this boat. With her. In the middle of nowhere, without wind, without oars.

Fuck. That’s what I get. Serves me right, trying to screw her. Being romantic ‘n stuff. I think. I gonna…

“Son of a bitch! You owe me a lunch and a warm bed! You owe me good time! You little shit! Scumbag! Idiot! You brought us here! You prick, get us back! I won’t put up with you another week! I swear I’m gonna kill you.”

“No! No wine for you! No! Bad! Bad girl! Put that plate down. It’s the last one. It isn’t fair! My leg is in splinters. Oh, come on! I can’t even move.” But she’s right. I owe her. Much more than that…

She pulled me out of the water. I would have drowned, mangled up and unconscious. I owe her my life. She has to do all the work. And I just lay here giving instructions. It’s ok. She has every right to vent on me. Surviving that storm was a wonder, anyway. The currents though. I donno where we’ve been drifting too. Luckily we’ve got fresh water from the rain. But no more painkillers. Wine is a bliss. At least passing out from wine is better than passing out from pain. I’d wish I had some better stuff. The night is coming. It’s going to be freezing. Starlit autumn sky.

The full moon is rising above the black waters. It’s going to be nasty.

“If we survive this, I’m going to make you pay!” She yells. I hope we get rescued, before she throws me over board.

“It’s ok. I know. You’re my mad girl…”

Grounds for Divorce

A  Chuck Wending – RANDOM SONG TITLE STORY CHALLENGE 

This popped up on my dash: Grounds for Divorce, by Elbow

*

“Dogs bark. Money talks.” The bartender leans over, and winks at me… I nod at the shelves with the rum. He pours me a drink. And a second one too, for himself. Cocky jackass. I blow the smoke of my cigarito straight into that slick stony mug of his. Not flinching, eh? Not one muscle moving.

He’s not the only die-hard in here… The moment holds its breath ‘n turns blue.

night bird

A Chuck Wending – THE RANDOMIZED TITLE REARS ITS HEAD – prompt

*

Trapped in our nightmares, we let them lead our salvation.

Oh god, there it is. The burn.

Again. In my head.

The pencil runs down at the bottom of the “Happy Lotus” takeout menu. Get out!

This line has been nesting between my ears for month; and now just slipped, wriggled itself from the tip of my tongue. Bad eel. I haven’t been able to exorcise myself from it. I turn it over hundred thousand times. It hurts. It… Hurts.

delusional wisdom

Why are the nights brighter and less delusive, than broad daylight?

Is it because I know it’s a dream I’m observing?

Is it the lack of cause and effect?

Is it the knowledge of not being punished?

Am I innocent? Can I convince myself, that I did no harm?

Did it ever cross my mind, that I won’t stop suffering?

Will I ever give it a rest?

The only chance my heart gets to speak to me – the only truth and desires – is when I dream. And I am not listening! Not even then!

What does that tell you about me?

hallucinating, aren’t we…

 

“It’s hot.”

No, it’s not. It is freezing. Of course. That absent dreamy look I know exactly. “Shit. Why you have to do this in the middle of a fucking storm? Nice weather is… nice, you know!” I can´t keep my eyes locked on his face, after all, I have to drive. “Did you…? Mhhh. Are you? Are you high?”

“No. It is going to snow pretty hard.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious! It’s been snowing for the last two days. Did you pack any supplies?”

“No, we don’t need…”

“What?! The cabin! You’re going to stay there for two weeks! Dammit. What are you thinking? Now, we have to turn ’round, to-”

“-NO! DON’T! We’ll be late!”

“Hey! Keep off your hands! Are you trying to kill us?! You ARE high! What the hell, did you take?”

“No-nothin’, honestly! I’m sober too. But. But I think I’m… I might be. I might be a bit crazy. No, no! Don’t be scared! I’m the good kind crazy, not that kind that kills.”

“Ooooh – Kay… Mhm. Should that – make me feel any better? I don’t see how…” He wasn’t staring into the snowstorm anymore. He pierced my skull with his eyes. Two gleaming spots. That burning sensation above my ears… I didn’t dare to look at him.

“You drive. I’ll keep the shadows away. And whatever you do… Don’t, just, don’t turn the lights off.”

dreams of doomsday

The steaming mug of tea drew a slow, hot circle in the laminate of the coffee table.

Normal physics. The best of it, the calming part. Not the going haywire for no fucking reason. Inside this room, my apartment. Everything seems to be stable for now.

Outside though… Visible vectors, stretching and distorting time and space… Things which should not be. Impossible things. Today I saw a bird climbing back into an egg, before exploding.

This is wrong… Everything… It doesn’t make sense.