a message for you.
please excuse my dust as this blog site is still under construction.
& there's someone working with machinery, far enough away that i can still hear a buzz-hum-hum, but it's the only thing i can hear. except breathing that is, but that's not very loud & i swear even in here i could almost see my breath seep out into the air & turn to dust. like everything else. that's not a metaphor. that's not a fact. it's just my thinking that dust is a part of everything, & everything is a part of dust. maybe if there was enough it would fill up the cracks in the walls that get bigger by the day. & that's not even a metaphor for anything either. it's masonry.
we're falling apart at the seams. sunlight & dust probably won't do anything at all, other than set the mood for them crumbling down.the only time i have ever been a morning person are the times that i never go to sleep. i'll get up in the morning anyway & i'll drink some coffee & i'll stumble around with my hair in my eyes & i'll mumble about radiators & newspapers & dreams that i can't quite remember anymore because i never even try like i used to. afternoon, evening, dusk, twilight, the witching hour, midnight, every am in a single digit. 
but anything after midday is the cat's meow.
i remember when we used to walk around in alleyways after midnight looking at the stars. or maybe i was the only one looking at the stars & maybe at the time i thought they were planets or fairies and glow-worms & maybe they were falling from the sky. i don't even like being in the city after dark all that much, but you can still see the stars as much as you can still see the sun & only rooftops & lampposts can really get in your way.
my loveliest called me once at half past two in the morning & asked me to go to the supermarket with her, there's really nothing better than an adventure in the middle of the night. except hanging out in dingy launderettes with neon lighting & watching the traffic pass by, listening to empty dryers spin spin spinning around.
signed with my sister’s love,
Nicci.D
Labels: alleyways, buzz-hum-hum, empty dryers, glow-worms, rainbow, single digit., twilight, witching hour
