an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Tuesday, October 3, 2006

. .



Longing for something, but what? On the same plane as learning a skill and finding it difficult, too difficult. But longing. There is sun. Warmth. Solitude. The ingredients, all right. Everything is in order. But not my head. My head is not right.

***

There could almost be nothing so pleasing as that repetition of the sign.

***

Redux:

[disappeared it]


***

"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"


[contact me: ghostwordeffigy@yahoo.com]

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