Just a list.
Laptop.
Camera.
Tripod.
Charger(s).
Strobes.
Hot lights.
Softboxes.
Umbrellas.
Batteries.
Makeup (makeup remover).
Nail Polish (nail polish remover)
Razor.
Wig.
New shoes.
New stockings.
New shaper.
Forms (finally).
Just a list.
I need some analog.
A waveform.
Familiar.
With smell, and texture.
A voice.
A millisecond of static discharge.
Friction.
Equilibrium.
With plastic and metal.
Man-made objects.
The world.
Out of order.
Now you lose me.
Between enlightenment and confusion.
Euphoria and misery.
We speak and think and dream too much.
Our fathers would disown us.
From all the screaming.
I find it extremely frightening (the possibility that there are no coincidences).
“There’s a reason for everything.”
A reason is but an attempt to explain… postmortem.
But why did it have to be a horse?
And why him?
Why didn’t I call like I promised I would?
Why didn’t they acknowledge his gift to the world?
To what extent? Unknown.
Just the other day I found peace with life as it was.
The clock did not stop.
Some other human needed that peace.
How long was their visit? Unknown.
My left arm is numb from the shoulder down. I roll over onto my back.
Glass. Everywhere.
The air is cold.
Cats are fighting.
My mouth is dry.
But I have a dull knife.
The glass is old and brittle. The air inside (where I stand) is heavy.
I strike three times, wedging the dull knife between the wood, bruising the palm of my hand.
The old lead paint gives way, cracking at the fulcrum. The air is heavy.
There are at least 8 million things wrong right now.
All I keep thinking about is the long weekend coming up.
I’ve finalized the location.
I need new makeup. And those shoes. Gotta have those shoes.