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7/19/2025, 8:33:13 PM
>I sleep and unsleep.
>Behind me, on the other side of where I'm lying down, the silence of the house touches infinity. I hear time fall, drop by drop, and not one drop that falls can be heard. My physical heart is physically oppressed by the almost forgotten memory of all that has been or that I've been. I feel my head materially supported by the pillow in which it makes a valley. My skin and the skin of the pillowcase are like two people touching in the shadows. Even the ear on which I'm lying mathematically engraves itself on my brain. I blink with fatigue, and my eyelashes make an infinitesimal, inaudible sound against the felt whiteness of the pillow's slope. I breathe, sighing, and my breathing happens - it isn't mine. I suffer without feeling or thinking. The house's clock, definitely located in the midst of the infinite, strikes the half hour, dry and void. Everything is so full, so deep, so black and so cold!
>I pass times, I pass silences; formless worlds pass by me.
>Like a child of Mystery, a cock suddenly crows, unaware that it's night-time. I can sleep, for it's morning in me. And I feel my mouth smile, slightly displacing the soft pleats of the pillowcase pressed against my face. I can surrender to life, I can sleep, I can forget myself... And as incipient slumber wraps me in darkness, either I remember the cock that crowed, or it is the cock itself that crows a second time.
>Behind me, on the other side of where I'm lying down, the silence of the house touches infinity. I hear time fall, drop by drop, and not one drop that falls can be heard. My physical heart is physically oppressed by the almost forgotten memory of all that has been or that I've been. I feel my head materially supported by the pillow in which it makes a valley. My skin and the skin of the pillowcase are like two people touching in the shadows. Even the ear on which I'm lying mathematically engraves itself on my brain. I blink with fatigue, and my eyelashes make an infinitesimal, inaudible sound against the felt whiteness of the pillow's slope. I breathe, sighing, and my breathing happens - it isn't mine. I suffer without feeling or thinking. The house's clock, definitely located in the midst of the infinite, strikes the half hour, dry and void. Everything is so full, so deep, so black and so cold!
>I pass times, I pass silences; formless worlds pass by me.
>Like a child of Mystery, a cock suddenly crows, unaware that it's night-time. I can sleep, for it's morning in me. And I feel my mouth smile, slightly displacing the soft pleats of the pillowcase pressed against my face. I can surrender to life, I can sleep, I can forget myself... And as incipient slumber wraps me in darkness, either I remember the cock that crowed, or it is the cock itself that crows a second time.
7/9/2025, 9:16:11 AM
dull_Flranks (X)
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