13 Dec 2015
One quarter of an hour after daybreak, subdued grey light coming in through the window by the bed. And that is the crepuscular beginning of another day, the details of the dreams, they are now forgotten, despite the wish to remember them. They are gone again, It was a dream involving the father, now deceased. And this construct of the mind has now receded into the jumble of the mind, grey structures. colour free, stacks of lightness dimming on their way to homogeneity.
The son is up, singing one of his choir songs, listening to stories on his computer, make up the breakfast, clean up- It is Sunday, a day to be spent collecting a piece of furniture. An item of some beauty and great practical use. Hopefully.
At least the weather is good, no rain.
Sunday bells to be heard, and there is no cat food to be found. so what, the cat is to go on a diet. The hand is recovering slowly, the smiling wound has healed to a tight lipped livid grin , leaving a skin covering quantity of bumps, a stiff little finger.
It will be time to return to work, these six weeks at recovery will soon be over.
Small cheeses and no plan. That is work, a space of no structure and ether's dreams.
One quarter of an hour after daybreak, subdued grey light coming in through the window by the bed. And that is the crepuscular beginning of another day, the details of the dreams, they are now forgotten, despite the wish to remember them. They are gone again, It was a dream involving the father, now deceased. And this construct of the mind has now receded into the jumble of the mind, grey structures. colour free, stacks of lightness dimming on their way to homogeneity.
The son is up, singing one of his choir songs, listening to stories on his computer, make up the breakfast, clean up- It is Sunday, a day to be spent collecting a piece of furniture. An item of some beauty and great practical use. Hopefully.
At least the weather is good, no rain.
Sunday bells to be heard, and there is no cat food to be found. so what, the cat is to go on a diet. The hand is recovering slowly, the smiling wound has healed to a tight lipped livid grin , leaving a skin covering quantity of bumps, a stiff little finger.
It will be time to return to work, these six weeks at recovery will soon be over.
Small cheeses and no plan. That is work, a space of no structure and ether's dreams.
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