petrushka's cupboard

Actually this is perfect right now, everything numbed with tiredness i feel vacant. i only hope my brain engages sometime soon and i can focus on the things i should. maybe i do leave too many spaces that even i lose myself inside them . . . falling into the gaps of tangents and emptiness and possibility.

i am following the tide and it is carrying me to deeper waters than i can tread. so maybe i will relinquish logic - i don't know where i might end up, where any of this is taking me. To sleep maybe? I hope so... perhaps i'll shed the weight of rationality and swim

listening to: nothing
India Arie - 'Brown Skin'
William Burroughs - 'Seven Souls (Secret Name)'