yesterday, i dreamt of Winston


yes, again.

what the fuck is with the guy, and why has he not packed his damn bags and leave?

or even better,

what the fuck is with me, and why am i not enforcing rent fees? because my cerebral space is not fucking free, eh? it’s not.

in the early mornings today after i woke up (grudgingly) from that rather pleasant dream (again, i have to grudgingly admit) i read some sort of a quote collection of Neruda’s. in it, one of them sounds like this: “I searched, but no one else had your rhythms, your light, the shady day you brought from the forest; Nobody had your tiny ears.” and i’m pretty sure Pablo meant to direct that rather feminine gesture to one of his lady friends that held a particularly dear place in his heart, but it reminded me of him. because Winston had such tiny ears, that it was very disproportionate to his big head. but i liked it, and his dinosaur-esque features… i liked that too. he just didn’t like me.

Lord i just need to move on. please help me move on, it’s been too long.



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