Have you ever written something down on paper, or typed something and stowed it away, and somehow upon happenstance come by it at some later time, to have no idea why you wrote it? In my own ventures and journeys, i've found that writing during the darkest depths of the night tends to produce some of the loveliest litany, like linguistics limned from the lexicon of luminescent thoughts, mind-wanderings from somewhere between this world, and the dream world beyond it.

Anyway, more to the point, here are some things which i wrote and dated, yet have no recollection as to what i was thinking at the time, why i wrote them, or what their intentional meanings were; i've lost their context, and now am left with just their words. i myself stand, like you, as an observer peering into the depths of the literature, taking whatever meanings i can from between the lines with no insight into its context or its intended meaning. And i absolutely relish it.



^{{June 4th, 2007}}
I am afflicted
Pick and scratch and still it snows
But it isn't even cold
When will this winter end?



^{{September 4th, 2007}}
I am lost in the unwavering bass
A strangehold around my neck
Picks me up off the floor, but I'm not struggling
Tighter! Tighter! Everything begins to blur
It all begins to fade until all i can see
Is the glint in everyone's eyes
Demons, peering out from the darkness



^{{October 15th, 2007}}
Your salvation does not come
In blue pills, red pills,
In rock songs, or cheap thrills;
Gaussian blurs and saturated photography,
High contrast and high angles may save you here,
But not out there where the real wolves lie
They lie in wait for you.



And yes, that last one is dated as today, though i wrote it last night sometime in the late night/early morning; even now, hours later, i cannot recall writing it specifically, only vaguely, as fleeting images rather than moving pictures and coherent feelings or thoughts.