Donnerstag, Oktober 10, 2002

A walk at dusk

Brisk walking, and you can only hear your own footsteps.
Breathing fitfully, you can only hear the haste of your paranoia escalating, feeding on the dead silence of the night.
Every so often, you turn up the natural defense's device to study any peculiar activities in the surroundings.
I am so afraid of the dark.
I worry that it might take me away to places which I would never like leaving home for.
Fear consumes my measure of judgement.
It drives me to an endless pursuit of running away.
Yet, I sing, incoherently, distracted by the uncanny.
Unfamiliarity.
Yet I will sing a song.

# one caramel latte for the road lili-dime | 10:20 AM |