wb :

Easy to get lost in the night time; that feeling that settles in around nine thirty and won't let go, like an oversized mosquito that latches on, withdrawing your lifeblood, leaving you sleepy, anaemic. Dizzy.

Easy to let go with a yawn, falling into the heap of songs and lyrics and la la la; it seems like a good idea at the time. You've maybe (an inkling might suggest) had a bit too much of this fluff for the previous decade; but for the moment (and I stress, for the moment) everything is smiling and hazy, floating awkward-like in a bathing-pool of temporary memories.

After that I'll go splash some cold water on my face, remind myself not to think about the silly stuff, and go to sleep. Good night.


- adam

Labels: prose