there was evidence in the dreams. someone was in there pulling, like the will of fingers behind a ouija planchette.
i tried to catch who it was who was doing it but they disappeared around the corner of the stairs from when i was six.
sometimes i see signs in objects. sometimes in dreams, objects from the day before come to me confusing me with their confusion about why they had been chosen to become part of my day.
i won’t be this person for much longer. and that makes me sadder than anything else.
i am happier than everyone else. most of it has to do with ignorance.
no one can be lost at sea if the sea is an island created by the machinations of a child’s dream. transformation. transmutation. sheer ignorance coupled with a determined will to believe.
somewhere, someone has to think it first.