Weed

There’s a lot going on in my head at the moment.  In my dream last night, this is what I saw:

I caught my hand as I squeezed through a house made of cardboard boxes.  The jagged edge ripped the skin exposing a blood red strawberry-like growth beneath the surface. I pulled it.  It came out quick enough, although not without some effort.  It tore like the roots of a dandelion being weeded. 

I sat alone at the top of my cardboard house with my wounded hand as a tangerine sky swirled above me.

It’s not even as though I take drugs. With a ‘normal’ psyche like this, can you imagine what effect narcotics would have?

I think I need to chill out.  And eat less cheese.

Comments

[TomDolan]

Well, on the upside, at least you're sleeping enough to dream.

[Carlton]

That's a good point, Tom. There's always a bright side or failing that doughnuts. c.