Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Sunday Afternoon, NYC

It's Sunday afternoon and God has gone fishing for compliments in a puddle of mud. All I have are four notebooks, this park bench, and five hours until soon arrives. My faith is in escrow. If you draw lines between my freckles you end up with a map of my failures.

I woke up this morning to the sound of birds chirping broken glass. Wind chimes whispered promises of contentment. I opened my eyes and found myself in the temple of another man. I turned to Mecca and preyed on forgiveness.

I took a bus without windows to a city I can't navigate. The bookstores were all out of Maps, and Mapquest told me they were six miles between where I was sitting and where I wanted to be soon. The problem with soon is that it never comes as fast as I'd like, but it goes too quickly. I decided I'd get to soon sooner if I walked the wrong way down a one way street, and sure enough my six mile journey was only a half mile long. The world is getting smaller by the minute.

I believe all this is in direct proportion to the expansion of my dreams. As my imagination gets bigger, your reality is shrinking. Soon, you will all be swallowed by it.

original post: http://insafemode.livejournal.com/127630.html

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