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lifetimes I have these visions that I take for granted stream through the canyons of everyone's thoughts, the wind of the subconscious imagination I just assumed was part of our makeup. Lipstick for the soul. They come out in voracious conversations around campfires, wine-drunk, and leaning in close to receive the next lines of speech quicker. Urging everything forward. The stars exploding with sparks of anticipation. I only realise they are unique when I speak them. And even then, they aren't really unique, but more like the recollections of dreams from a collective unconscious. Pictures of memories someone, somewhere, sometime has lived. Storybook fantasies with an adult twist, stolen from childhood romps through imaginary landscapes. Cigars on a balcony in Monte Carlo, black tie affairs, afterthoughts of money we don't need. A romance in Morocco. Stealing away at night. The stench of the leather tanneries thick in our nostrils, mouths pressed together, intimate strangers. Simultaneously short lived and infinite. Libraries and typewriters and ink smudged fingers and warm handshakes. Bright dining rooms with full china sets and softly shining lights that feel like home. Intellectual conversation over expensive brandy in crystal tumblers. Polite smiles and light laughter, so familiar. Memories of places I've never been and people I've never met. Strange. ----- - - 6:32 p.m. , January 29, 2005 personal empowerment - 9:48 p.m. , January 12, 2005 jaksdf - 7:22 p.m. , December 19, 2004 the break up - 11:08 p.m. , December 16, 2004 fists of rage - 6:28 p.m. , December 13, 2004 |