From a journal entry
"Lune is my best friend
Lune looks me in the eye
Lune knows sadness and silence
Lune talks to me when everyone else sleeps and dreams
Lune is caged and limited
Lune does not wander far, Lune waits for the stars to burn out because they are boring!
Lune sees me in the grass with my toes and deep eyes and focuses the light on me
When the clouds make Lune go far away, i am sad, because that means our whispers are muffled
Lune does not die
And Lune speaks to my body threads
so i love Lune
Because i know Lune will never ever leave me"
That is what happens on a high, i am pulled away from my human companions and into my otherworld where the moon, Lune, is my best friend
I could sit for hours and stare at the sky and pour out my thoughts.
Tonight i cannot sleep.
I am adjusting to my latest meds and am feeling rather like i felt before i started them...
My favorite book is The Eleventh Hour. I can recite almost all of it from memory. When i am sad and crying and shaking and panicking, i can usually say it over and over to myself in a meditative way to calm down. I see it as a grand metaphor for the world.... maybe i will explain that later
I could post a poem now.
This is a rough one...
I never knew what to title this one. something about A Monster Named Wednesday.
I am soft. You cannot touch me.
I havve a machine.
I press pretty buttons
And change my mind
one lever at a time, one
after the other. Perfect.
Like little paper dolls.
Dont frown in the mirror all the time!
Build the great wall
Around your sullen eyes.
After all, dolls die
When no one loves them anymore
Me? I was afraid of their wide eyes
So i stayed home
And ate chinese.
I was afraid that you
had more than me
So i never left home.
I locked my plate, crawled into a cave
and gnawed on the flesh of the holy.
the smallest pixels danced for me in leaps
in my ears, rather
but i have little soldiers
who march in blue
to take my blues away.
Drum! As the moon looks
through his telescope
('cause he always was a pervert
and lit paths for sinners).
Sleep, and hope you wake up
with the same face on.
What do stars do while you dream?
Sunday is Easter.
Rocks will fall into the sea.
The Sea bleeds.
and thats all, folks.... hmmm. i feel bland.
humans are so inefficient.
goodnight, fellow robots.