distortion

the blurry shape of my fingers this morning. of all mornings. my hands were out of reach. lost in some mediaeval time capsule. i tried hard ... but then it laughed back in my face. no i am unable to move, unable to breathe. my breath is some unknown kind of blood. i press my hand against the great wall of time. it's all inside my head but still i can see it in between raptures. i am infected with information. but i can't see it. that's all there is.

::: stay entertained :::