Words leak, bleeding into consciousness, saturating volition. Words sneak up, shaping the will. A feeling of comfort, like waking to partially opened curtains, reveals a gentle blue sky, spotted with even gentler clouds.
I get up, brush my teeth and drink my coffee, as usual. I shower and drink another cup, as usual. I've had my toast now, with rasberry jam. You sit somewhere deep inside me, in some lost place. I can't find it now.
I go out. I am with a wonderful group of people. They are all fascinating, beautiful. I feel sexually charged. I am talking, they are talking, we are talking, We are exchanging energy This is life. Now I am living. But I have forgotten something, and I must go back.
I stare at my shoe, and my eyes cross. Try as I might, I cannot uncross them. My eyes are crossed, and this I cannot change. I want to get up, to go somewhere, to do something, but crossed eyes are an impediment. It is so difficult to know which object to avoid, and which to gravitate towards, when there two of them. I try hard to uncross my eyes, and the trying wakes me.
I gaze at partially opened curtains, seeing a gentle blue sky. I realize, with relief, it was a dream. I shift my eyes, and in doing so, I realize my eyes are crossed, again.
