(It’s a long time until dawn)
Still now, even now, as I write, I can’t think clearly. Not with any consistency. Fluency. Is that the right word? Fluid thinking. Thoughts flowing logically. Naturally.
Not the dangerously alluring false-natural logic of thoughts in dreams. I mean, proper logic. Logic that bears scrutiny.
I don’t know if that makes sense because I don’t know if proper logic exists.
My thoughts are as smeared now as they were earlier today, staring out of a cafe window at the long-empty shop over the road.
xxxxxx
So the night stretches ahead. I don’t even know if it really is darkest just before dawn.
Let’s be positive. Be positive. Sleep will come when it does. At least I noticed the smeared blue on the door today. At least it provoked a reaction. At least that. At least, tonight, I’m still remembering that.
A Smeared Blue
Yes, it’s a blue, but it’s the smear that attracts. It’s the smear that’s speaks, not the colour.
Smear across my clarity. Smear my thoughts.
Arguably … there are times when honest and apparently off-the-cuff observation and awareness seem worthwhile. Blunt honesty can often be refreshing but, very often, it needs context to be convincing.
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