Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Sick and hallucinating and I want to go home
I see vines. Long, green vines. Twirling around me, engulfing me. They pulse. The constant movement is deafening. I cannot hear a thing. All I can do is see, and all I see are vines.
They have no leaves, these vines. They have no end. They are green, and they are movement, and nothing more.
Their web occurs to me. There is a pattern I cannot see. If I could stand back, I am sure that I would see this pattern. This web. I am sure of it. But I can't stand back. I am too close. I am held tight. There is no end to the vines in my sight.
But even here, this close, I begin to understand. There is a web. It is movement. It is green and it is movement. For a moment I catch it. But its gone. The fever hits again. I fall back into a dreamless sleep.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
