Tuesday 30 October 2018

Dear Owls, a house.

My fingers tap at the keyboard with nothing to say. What do I tell this universe that has taken everything from me? Am I upset about it? No. However, the fact that everything is temporary shocks me. Why is it that we cannot have our cake and eat it too? Keeping aside the science of it.

My fingers tap at the keyboard with small talk. I've been fine. Thank you. And you?

I tap and tap, hoping that somewhere between the lines, a tear will escape the keys; an indicator of lifeforms. A hint that I can still feel something. A sign that my heart still beats. My heart still pounds, like my fingers at the letters. My eyes desperate to keep along. I worry that my body has outrun itself. My brain has reached galaxies my physical form cannot. And so, I unzip my skin and walk outside this body that has brought me nothing but heartache. I walk out and fly into the dusty, cosmic milky-way. I am now one with the universe. I watch myself dance with my mistakes, with my past and with everyone I have left behind also.

Where will I find my new home?

I giggle at my own jokes and write a million books; "To the humans on the planet I will not return to, do no make the same mistakes I have made. Do not hurt yourself over things that cannot get hurt themselves - do not swim with the sharks. Do not swim, in general. Swimming is boring. To the humans on the planet I will not return to... don't forget to feed the fish."

Where will I find my new home?

Perhaps I am the home... and what I really must look for, is a house.


Baby Yoshi Blinking