mire

on a lethargic sunday, i take a stroll on quaggy terrain, by myself. there is a unusual high level of humidity in the atmosphere.

i promenade along a murky stream, thinking about how slow i walk. i am unbelievably tired, i drop my knees to the ground, landing ungainly on the sodden earth. my shoulders are unable to put up against the seemingly overwheming weight of my arms, i flop to the ground. i am astounded by my inability to summon my strength. i am rendered useless by some invisible force.

after three minutes of sober weeping. i attempt to open my eyes. slowly but surely, my eyeballs come out from within my slimy head. my eye stalks extend and i can see above the grass. i slug along the rejuvenating moist ground. my shell provides security and is my source of comfort.

a giant figure looms ahead. it is made mobile by two limbs. i envy them for their limbs. the figure passes by, ignoring my exsistence.

my failing memory huants me, the figure has tiggered something in my distant past. but i have learnt not to trust my memory. i am just a snail.



listening to:
Sufjan Stevens: concerning the UFO sightings
No Doubt: running
Super Furry Animals: hello sunshine
Stephen Fretwel: run