on_the_picnic_table_asleep fyn gula I'm there, reading voltaire, echo park on a sunday. and when it's this i see before me. i don't want to know anything more. it is here i'm afraid the beauty will fade. i want to remember it this way, to walk away when memory is not clouded by humanity when vision is still angelic and colours have not run. when music is heard for the first time and singing is the cry of the heart when laughter is healing and sadness brought real tears tasting of the sea. 000314 ... camille lids closed i feel clouds drift i trace the lines in my eyelids like a map. Wondering where to next. Sun goes behind a cloud and all becomes grey. I'm in England on this rainy day, people walking with umbrellas which have become a third hand. The hem of my jeans wet from puddles. Sun comes back...i'm in Jamaica, the smell of sweet bacon and fruit brings a smile to my senses.. I hear laughter...i remember laughing once...just as quickly as i laughed i cried, as one accompanies the other when i laugh. It's because i love laughter and the emotion of laughter overwhelms me.. 000314 ... birdmad dressed in rags, riding out the brain-haze left from the bottled misadventure. i see him there in the abandoned park and breathe that sigh of relief to know that i am the passerby and not the sleeper, and remember a handful of nights in some other park in another part of town, hidden under a nice big shrub, waking up to the cacophony of birds just before dawn 030106 ... sirflaccid ....in the middle of hayswood listening to absolutely nothing enjoying a day away from everything. I miss those days! 030106 what's it to you? who go blather from