Monday, February 25

double click, click, scroll, pause. scroll, double click, double click, scroll, right click, click, click, right click, click, click.

Wind-chimes tinged once and then twice, the sound echoing through the dark house. the cool draft that had tickled the hanging, metal tubes danced on Brian's sleeping features. His right cheek spasmed slightly, an involuntary flinch that may or may not have been brought on by the draft itself. It could have, of course, been part of his dreaming situation that his brain picked up and expressed physically. The same notion as a leg suddenly extending itself to stand on a step that only exists in one's mind and instead flailing into the empty space below the foot or a neighbouring object/person causing and jolt of surprise or pain, either way awakening the dreamer. Brian didn't need to worry about hurting any neighbouring persons though, as he slept in the otherwise deserted house. His only companions were those in his head with which he was holding riveting conversations and extravagant dinner parties. He didn't need to be told that he was a little overweight, a little overworked and a little old to still be sleeping alone, because in surreality he wasn't. Something of a social and psychological mutation convinced Brian that he can always dream it away, that if he dreamt enough, the dreams would become reality and the harsh reality would become sleeping hours, the balance reversing itself. He didn't want to remove himself from life, just from his current one of nine to five worthless crap that'd drag on to six or seven or eight depending on which satanic supervisor wasn't on an island somewhere holidaying. He wanted conversation that at least sounded two-sided and views that stretched further than to the bricks of the next building. He wanted to run his hands through grass that wasn't synthetic, and smell flowers that weren't concentrated into bottled and just coffee that actually tasted like coffee. And he could have all that, fabricate it all, live it up in a world where he's the main attraction. A lie that tells third world countries that they're not hungry because they've just eaten. Sturdy tones uttering "keep in mind, that peace is a piece of mind, that war is a mind set, so war is greater than just one peace". A bloated misstatement waddling the streets with illegible signs and irrational reasons. One that screams "we don't need peace because we already have it". A rasping voice whispering "the sun will come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that..."
A tear runs down Brian's right cheek as he opens his eyes and looks into the darkness, he truly understands that he cannot escape, it is what has broken him.

clatter, clatter, rumble, grunt, pause. rattle, clatter, bash, bang, oo, ee, oo, a, a, bing, bang, walla, walla, bing, bang.

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