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Before I go swimming

Posted in Dreamland by ION on 01/11/2008

The toy room is now empty except for some scattered pages, safe instructions
for eleven new and dangerous mind games, utterly beautiful;
probably more so than the mind who conceived them_

I realize now that I am a mere interpreter of others’ ideas;
can you find me the engineer?

Sometimes, it’s really amazing how monotonous an ordinary set of transparent
mouse clicks, telephone calls, conversations, hidden e-mails, moving comments,
even stock responses can be_

I also realize that any attempt of bringing my laptop back to life is sterile.
But when the crash came I found out that I had to try.
After all it’s just wasted data, like wasted dreams, like wasted words
written in a foreign language_

I buy my education with my last cash_

Yes, I went through a long period of debate and finally decided I would come back
and open my diary’s pages. Find my old toys. Even accept new ones.
With one condition: in my dreams I am the killer.
I have to recover my own identity in order to escape this silly plot.
But, in a funny sort of way I always feel relieved at having done some killings:
unstable equations, once popular but misleading theories, computer viruses,
biological viruses, love’s central database_


One Response

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  1. maja said, on 04/11/2008 at 9:03 pm

    is your last cash your brains power unit
    _otherwise, why would you kill but to enhance
    the sterile footprints of dying ideas and such

    >does the life leaves after being ignored<

    –can life be brought again to the pair that lost ground
    leave only with smelly footprints so that you can be traced–

    ++can love bring me home to the only one home i see**

    **so does it work that way,
    do you have what you need,
    a furtile ground of some space
    where you can plant your seed++

    with regards,

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