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    dots Submission Name: Air Conditioningdots

    Author: Sir Jimeth
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 93/49/48
    Words: 404
    Class/Type: Prose/Misc
    Total Views: 761
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2322

       This is something
    Prose. Some play at writing.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsAir Conditioningdots

    There's all this heat and I don't much care for it. I'll just flip this switch and- ah, there's that sound. Give it some time and this won't be a day of sweating. That's what I'd like to think and I think I'm having trouble keeping that up.

    I saw you last night, not in any real way, just in this metaphysical dreamscape nightmare thing where I was half-asleep, but unwilling to let myself go (The whole unconsciousness thing appeals immensely, but I find myself frightened by it). I didn't know what I felt. You spoke and I listened and I was angry, that wasn't the whole thing, but it's enough for me to try and find something.

    You didn't say much. I can't remember what that little bit was so I'm going to go ahead and say it wasn't important. Probably the same as any other time: you spoke, I countered and because you were a figment of myself I found every point reached equilibrium, a stalemate in more combative terms. We can't agree and we can't budge, so this whole seesaw thing is annoying with its lack of dynamics.

    Off the seesaw though, I find myself a free-floating object afflicted by random bouts of inertia and the gravity of anything else. I stay tight and small and pull as little to myself as I can, but I can't think of any dust that manages to stay in place, undisturbed, for long.

    It's all this movement I suppose, all this friction. I'd like to just slip and let the lights dim, but I can't. The moment I close my eyes I'll miss something to which I can pawn some of this heat. Something with which I can hit some sort of equilibrium. I'm not looking for an ionic bond, definitely not a hydrogen bond. No interest in drowning in my authority or anyone else's.

    It's about time for a covalent bond. A coolvalent bond. Say what? Oh, yes. A cooling breeze filling my room with some satisfaction, as all this friction comes to a close and I feel seventy-four degrees comfortable in this shell. While I'm here I can ignore everything outside. There is nothing but that steady hum, the feeling of cool air, and a calm emptiness mirroring everything I don't want to be and find that I am.

    Submitted on 2011-06-26 22:21:51     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Im older now than you were when you wrote this. Its beautiful. From beginning to end its very thorough and I got a lot more out of it tonight.
    | Posted on 2015-03-10 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]

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