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Bathed in Radioactive Decay - Isomeric Transition.
Night slips into it's windy daze, a familiar sea slipping away from me as I reach towards it. Hiding inside, what will tomorrow bring?
Downtown is a sight - straight lines of light shooting toward the sky and stretching beyond my window, ebbing away the darkness. I sigh, sometimes it's easy to forget why I'm here...and sometimes I just don't want to remember.
I am frustrated and content. A cycle of dwelling on (and/or bitching about) the past, what that past exists as currently; lusting for the future. Wanting more.
What I wouldn't give for a panacea.
A whisper into the swirling ether - a world of hurt outside the oasis. Do I really need to find my way, or should I just jump? Let's walk forward into the silent repose, with a neon sign screaming,
"THIS IS THE NEW DEATH."