projection

and for a moment there I completely forgot where I was. When i came to I recognised I was hanging upside down, no doubt about it. the brightness made it harder to understand the mirrored surrounding. slowly, I accept and confirm this is familiar enough not to warrant upset. I recognise the state I'm in. proprioception kicks in. my legs have earned back some control and are beginning to complain of their numb state. I can clearly define my outline and my aim.

well-outlined case for the reality being a projection of my perception of what's objective. it is too obvious, bullet-pointed and pointed at by all fingers. so what's the dispute? i guess it's a closed case of the fact that i cannot touch the ground with my arms, no matter how much i would like to stretch out.

you. you are standing there laughing. you are sitting down on a chair, rolling a cigarette so slowly it hurts the particles of dust floating around you with impatience. eventually they are burnt by your mechanical lighter which needs three-four takes to work. clip clip. you are running around in a circle, tidying up the objects out of place and stopping to check the plugs are switched off at the mains. you rehearse your speeches silently. mouthing the consonants and breathing out the vowels with your smoke. you stomp your feet with stubbornness and indecision. plagued by your virtues, you stop at the mirror. you stare at it, but have forgotten how to look into it. you hear me and seem startled for a second. you get more active and start rummaging around for the keys. and the receipts. and the shopping. and the other things you need. you pick up your stuff from the floor and you drop it back down with disappointment.

optimised connection between everything and the flow is particularly comforting. the case is the case and this knowledge is not gold or anything at all. what's tangible is infallible but what you're made of and what you touch is only in the matrix.

we live in the matrix. from the film. a fucking computer machine of prophecy and stamina and algorithmic calculations of predictability. and all emotions and feelings and words are only valuable when looked at retrospectively.

I fall or fail.

(in summary)

flapping round the south london trees, my wing got caught on something. it really bit me hard and i tried my hardest to win, but my poor wing was now shredded in two pieces. i looked at the evil captivator with my intimidating face on, to find the most beautifulest light stare back. i couldn't move. i couldn't speak. what de f* are you? , i try to say, but my voice is obviously breaking and i'm so desperate to make a cool impression. no response. the light caresses my tear, and then oozes out this confusing mist. it's maybe a vapour, wet and powdery. i feel.. like myself. how bizarre. the light is attacking me and i am not even irritated one bit. i am feeling confident i am clever and tell the buzzest jokes in town (man), but still am 'choosing' not to move or say a word, other than a little humming i can't help but do, as i'm flicking my lashes at said light-thing. is that verging on wrong? falling for some light? no idea what my mates will say. but i don't even want to live to tell them. the mist is smelling of deliciousness. i am taking it all in.
i can feel my insides rotting slowly. turning green, bitter, ashy. i am taking it in with the most innocent love.
i look back at the light, offering my heart and this little droplet of honeywater i'd saved for a special occasion. 'it's all i've got, love, but i'd like you to have it'. the light does not reply. does not acknowledge this incredible sacrifice or the fact i don't see it as one not one bit.
all my eyes are now burning from the stupid lovelight. i am delirious and singing songs and swinging my leggies in the air. my wing is about to fall off. who cares though? seriously, doesn't matter.

this was the longest night of my life. it was my only night. it was just so incredible i genuinely thought the morning would never come- and i hate that it did. there's no point explaining LOVE to you, you wouldn't understand, but - but we kissed and it was maaaagical.
(i was scared. i was fucking terrified, of all the power i had in my hands. the power i couldn't manipulate. the protection i just had to give to the light, and the sharp pains in my decomposting body. i built an entire city for us. i cooked all the dinners i could cook. i licked every little worry away and i gave and gave and loved - running on my interpretation of this feeling. pretending it's coming in for me as well. the light was clearly so much in love with me - i could feel it. the morning came and the light was still there. i looked at it. it seemed different. it wasn't smiling. it wasn't telling me stories of it's travels and encounters. it wasn't even stroking my hair. it bit the bit of my broken wing off and i fell on the ground. i fell. it was my fault. i'm so sorry my lovely light.)