Saturday, January 21, 2006

randomness in bed...

He’s heading to the only light source in my room: a dome shaped light, ribbed glassed curved in seventies fashion—booblike in shape. A solid brass nipple hardened to a point . An odd place to center a light, three fourths up a sixty degree wall. The light emits shadows across the ceiling giving the surface a moon quality. Crevasses, craters, and water stains are exposed through the top layer of eggshell white. The only explorer to the astronomical ceiling in my room is a ladybug on a voyage to the center of the light. He hasn’t moved for over six months now. Dead. Frozen in time. Did he lose hope on the way to the beacon? His oblong shadow doesn’t move in relationship to the sun. No natural light hits that point on the wall. A ladybug. An omen of good luck. A struggle between the natural and the nature of things. Why is he in my room? How did he get here? Where was he born? Does he have a family? Why is he so attracted to a light source that surely burned him alive—halting his journey—before attaining his goal. Was he a phoenix in a previous life? Hard to tell, he doesn’t speak to me. But his presence does. I don’t dare scrape his remains from the wall. He has become a fixture next to the light. A chandelier of challenge.

3 Comments:

At 7:06 PM, Blogger Jessie said...

"a chandelier of challenge"--this is good stuff adam.

 
At 8:31 PM, Blogger wildgrapeflavah said...

Dude, I had a dream last night. I was carrying my hockey bag....through a big ass neighborhood I've never been before, that had no end. I can relate to your ladybug. Thankfully I didn't burn up on anything.

 
At 9:06 PM, Blogger moose said...

I've had the same strange hockey dream, but I'm inside the rink,late for the game because I can't tie my skates right. It's the only recurring dream I can remember. I wake up frustrated and tired wondering if I forgot how to strap on the blades.

 

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