Saturday, November 17, 2007

Sunset Stripping

It's a surreal experience, groggy from antihistamines, waking up to the hifi playing Arctic Monkeys, only to realise that the sunrise outside your window had been swapped for a maroon sunset.

Like Pink Floyd croons:
There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ships smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I cant hear what you're saying.
When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I can't explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb.

I can barely remember the dreams I'm having but there were doctors, bats and prostitutes. And for the life of me I can't seem to piece them together.

And while our bodies get older and frailer, we suddenly realise we're closer to death than we thought. Things we'll never get to do, places we'll never get to go. And who knows what will happen the minute we cease to exist?

It happens to our grandparents, then our parents, then us. Death, it's inevitable.

For what it's worth, the innocence we had is long dead. There are things I wish I had never seen, ideas I wish I had never understood, people I wish I had never known, choices I wish I had never made.

I'm clutching at the straws of cleanliness and purity and innocence.

Hi William Blake.

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