09-02-25

 There aren't many baubles today as I wish there were, many broken mirrors, truly broken, shrapnel. I don't know what happened there but it wasn't my home. 

 The dreams I dreamt were weirder, there were intrinsically mistakes waiting to be made, there was a building, a workplace, a yellow building, tall, a field, an altar, a sacrifice to be made, a dog, then beast, then my girlfriend, then it all rambled to a man who was a shark, and his chaining into the deeper ocean, we strung like a jet down the ground deep to the water under all the rock and stone, we floated, then we were hit by air, in the second layer of reality, there was a purple sky, raging thunders past the clouds who were deeper in greys. 

 It strung wrongly, the new air, and the reckless speed, in which we submerged past the visibility into the darkness and past the magnificent beast of the new century to the seafloor, spreading deeper into the sinking heart who felt it's feet in the abyss, there was a tent and inside there was a family, we spoke, we ate dinner together, and I left to the abyss, 

 The day was grey, but I met with her again, her smell, her hair, her eyebrows and that deep brown of her eyes, the abyssal depth of her pupils, the two black dots connected by a tendril in her agate like cosmos in the eye, beautiful creature that lays down with me, we passed the day, from one point to the other, we spent the time, I cooked for her, I watched with her, we heard together, we spoke and felt, this tranquility of mind. Today I learned again, what this should be called, little thing called love.