"next door the TV's flashing,
blue frames on the wall,
it's a comedy of errors, you see,
it's about taking a fall.
to vanish into oblivion is easy to do,
and i try to be,
but you know me,
i come back when you want me to."
i woke this morning with this song heavy in my consciousness, cloying, penetrating, like the oppressive warmth of the humid room, and the dry-from-thirst feeling in the back of my throat. i dream of songs sometimes, or at least they play their part, stroking my hair and nudging the surreal plot along. the dream, well its contents are hazy and i can only see the sketched outline of movement and feelings, as if i walked into a room right as the television is switched off, and all i see is the fading images, disappearing. is that what missing looks like then? the visuals switching off as our eyes narrow, trying to capture what we still want to see?
yes I do
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