August 6th, 2002

dangerous, bebop

On the lights of my derangement

I feel like slightly out of focus. Like a bad image of the real me. As if there were such a thing. I am tired and depressed. My heart is not in it.

A depressing song playing the back ground as I look out my window. The view, in the real, is of the police station in Cobb county. I can see of the back of the place with it's single door. I like to imagine a desperate escape. A prisoners mad dash ending there in a spectacle of violence as the flag flaps in the breeze.

Of course it is not dark out. the sky is black, but the lights are bright. Street lights. Neon lights of the restaurant across the street from the police station. The white spot of the police station turned inward, star of it's own boring show.

In the light, all detail is clear. I can see the mortar lines in the brick. I can see the worn metal trim and the cameras lining the roof. Every detail fascinating only because it is a detail. My adled head seeking imagery to play with.

I guess I am given to obscure distractions when depressed. Why I decided to share this stream of thought, I cannot say really. Least I didn't reveal any of the big secret. Only I am not myself this week. Maybe i can be someone else for a while.

Slaying my Own Unicorns