These days I’m living out the hours like I’m walking around in a strange dream. Things have a sort of ethereal, fuzzy, expansive nature to them. I sit in a classroom typing notes on my laptop, gleaning the general ideas of a lecture, and glancing out through the cracks in the blinds over the window, spotting someone going by on a bicycle, or hearing a lawnmower across the way, and I misspell a word and right click for corrections, and all the while, I’m aware of other things, like how my heartbeat goes up slightly on each in breath, like how my veins look plump and beige blue around the knuckles, like how someday I’ll be a bloodless thing, and then, how strange it all is, how strange this whole dream is.

I’m too young to be so painfully aware of my mortality.


About A B

"There is all this untouched beauty, the light, the dark, both running through me." -Over The Rhine
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