I can smell violets and hear rustling in the houses

[squirmelia]

I washed my hair in rainwater and then that evening I approached my house from the opposite end of the street to normal, the end of the street that is punctuated with a lawn (actual grass, not even hidden behind a high fence, but there are 'No trespassing' signs). I walk on that side of the street and it seems somehow different. I can smell violets and hear rustling in the houses. I think about the romantic aspects of ampersands and try not to think about how unappealing my shadow is when I am naked. It is dark now, and I remember I want to swim in the sea at night. Well, float really, but there's only puddles here. I wonder if skyscrapers will ever be built on my street, and decide that I want to blow bubbles out their high windows if they are.

Comments

[thewomb.livejournal.com]

Good point, but how do I stop worrying about dying?

Re:

[squirmelia.livejournal.com]

Become a zombie?

Re:

[thewomb.livejournal.com]

Unfortunately I'm stranded in the world of the literal where they don't exist.

Re:

[squirmelia.livejournal.com]

Bother.

Even becoming the sun might not help, since it would probably just prolong the time you have in which to worry.

Re:

[thewomb.livejournal.com]

Yeah. You'll notice that if you untangle all the threads in the human brain, most of them are managable, but there's this one that goes on forever that concerns our ability to anticipate our own death. And that's when you wish that you hadn't unravelled your brain.

Re:

[squirmelia.livejournal.com]

Replace brain with tangled hair?

Re:

[praest76.livejournal.com]

Then birds will steal it and make it into nests.

Re:

[theapplepicker.livejournal.com]

That's my plan.