Last night, all my dreams were about sleeping. I was alone, and it was excruciating. I awoke a handful of times, only to stare at the ceiling and wish to be sleeping. I fell asleep, and dreamed of sleeping. Eleven hours after I began, I stopped, or rather, my body stopped me. There was no division between, only the thing, and then not it.
She lives 30 miles away, and I'll never see her again. I wear her head around my neck like a mariner. The water everywhere is no good to drink. The rest I fall into never makes me sleep.
I'm dying every day, and no one touches me anymore.
Not a day goes by without her.
I'm alone.
[I miss writing on this blog. The familiarity of it was warmth to me. I abandoned it, thinking it would drain my creativity and leave my other projects, the book, the plays, without. But creativity is not a limited resource, doled out carefully. It's a mine, vast and bottomless, and the only restraint on your delving is your time. I need this blog much more than it needs me, and I'm coming back to it now.
I want to finish my book.
I want to finish my plays.
I want to finish my lament.
But some things are meant to go on forever. This blog is one of them.]
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
[I got so excited when I saw that you had posted here!
ReplyDeletePlease know that you've got at least one reader here (and I suspect you've got more than just little ol' me).]
Nineteen views on this one. Don't know what that means.
ReplyDeleteGlad to see you back, Ashlee. I've been unfaithfully following your blog, but I added a task to my daily to-do list:
Read a friend's blog.
So far it's you, and Ashley (Dunbar) McMullen and Alyssa, now that I found out she's blogging again, and I guess that's largely it.
Janelle doesn't post anywhere I can find, and I'd have to reach out to her maybe before I did start reading. I was a casual demolitions enthusiast in those days, and bridges seemed so transient and flammable.
Simple guess here but it means that people read it?
ReplyDeleteIt's definitely easier to write when you know people are reading, that is for sure. Blogs aren't necessarily the 'thing' to do these days, not like they were back in the day, but whatever, I do not care.
As far as bridges go, I guess it depends on the materials they were built with, and the type of fire they were burned with. Some bridges are harder to rebuild, I suppose, but I don't know the specs and history of that particular bridge to any useful degree.
I guess it's just fear that keeps me from doing it.
ReplyDelete