Begin The Acting

It's almost surreal how at these dark hours, driving along the interstate seems almost like a train ride. I think I rather like it, but I haven't entirely made up my mind, yet.

I once thought that everybody in the whole world spoke the same language. And that's weird, because the whole world is really a confused place, and it makes perfect sense that each should have his own speech.
Actually, I frequently find myself thinking that other languages are really English in code.

Why is it that lights are so enticing?
I almost thought that the boxes I packed away into the truck weren't taped shut, and should my toaster and the studio lights get away, that would be just terrible. For surely I shall never see them ever again and I don't know what I would do without toast.
It's funny how at night, everything gets all dark. Yet the ocean is still there. And it is always there and always will be there.
I love it.

Dreams don't wish to leave my head. They return hourly, and haunt me. If they did escape my skull, they would be positively homeless, anyway, so why even ponder this notion?
I almost think that sleep isn't actually real. It's something that people do, only because their parents taught them, from a very young age that sleeping is an actual necessity. What if this is the cause of our bodies becoming weak and tired? Imagine if we had never slept at all as infants; would we really find a need for sleeping, now?

The sky in the city never really gets dark, and that is what I really dislike about it. It's almost a nondescript pink and gray color, mixed together on blacktop, and fried there in the heat of the star.
Bright flecks of light burn bright in the distance, beckoning you to come forth, into the heart of an unnatural world.
After 290 miles, we finally pass the road sign. A highly anticipated event, I was eager to see this, and now it flashes by in a unnoticeable blur, as if crying out to be recognized to the busy city-goers.
The runway is bright and smiling in the dark, like a peaceful nightlight, reassuring the rest of the world that all is well at this moment, and all that matters is the here and now. Whatever comes next in life, we will triumph. No doubts.

I remember touching the cool skin of the rivulet, and how my fingers could almost taste the rich flavor of that spring. There was nobody in the world except me and the Lord.
I can almost still remember that night, and seeing your shoulders silhouetted against the studio lights in the background. It wasn't so much of your black eye that make you look utterly pitiful, but the expression on your face. How you tried to smile so I wouldn't feel bad for you. It didn't work, you know.

We journeyed to California with Mr. and Mrs. Grouso, and found that beautiful sparking little cove outside the harbour. The next morning we took that pretty little blue convertible down to the shore and spent all afternoon spying seagulls and wading into the waves, discovering seaglass and cleaning the sand out of empty conch shells in the tide pools.

It was almost as if every other place on the planet was nonexistent. Almost as if I didn't live in New Hampshire and you didn't live in Vancouver. Then we could go to Nigeria. And stay there for eight and a half days.
Grapefruits grow from the Earth instead of grass. That is how it should be, and it could stay that way forever.

I always did want to be an Aquanaut, you know.

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Okay, so this is what happens to me when we are driving relentlessly at 11:00 at night. I get kinda tired. And these are the unique thoughts that toy with my brain cells.

-Melty the Crazy

2 comments

  1. This... is how I think. Therefore, I love it.
    Beauty. :)

    ReplyDelete

kind words are like raindrops on the desert. they make me bloom with happiness, as absolutely cliche and cheesy as that sounds. even if it's just a simple alt+3 i will heart you for it. so, go ahead! MAKE MY DAY. literally.