Friday, April 16, 2010

Eyes Are Time Machines pt.1 - This Is How Morning Feels

Boards of Canada - Slow This Bird Down

  The sun crept through broken blinds, throwing streaks of sunlight onto the instep of my left foot. I reach out for the cool side of the pillow and turn my head to lie my other cheek.

  - Too soon

  The daylight is a severe offender against the desire for sleep.
  My spine is stretching.
  Dirty cotton sheets swab lazy skin / electric smooth-skin / ghoul-skin.
  My stomach is turning.
  A soundless voice echoes.
  "Tomorrow is today."

  It is time to force a roll over and press sweaty feet down on luke-warm tile, sticky with years of bad night nicotine blues. Eyes close and senses breathe; a thin film covers my body like diseased satin. I can taste my breath. I'm starting to get used to rousing, standing and walking the same dusty routines of muscular and mental torsion.

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