Ghost in the treble

i seem to be always tired nowadays. i’m moving and going all the time. my sleep is empty of dreams. yeah, i used to dream, a lot. it’s not that my sleep is not refreshing – it is. but it seems meaningless now. i don’t know why. my sleep is dead.

my thoughts move so ungracefully from one to the next. no smooth transitions at all. the flow is disturbing, like I’m drifting down a river in rapids i can’t predict. just bump and whoosh and on to the next thought. the music is so loud here. see?

i guess i should check in on him. he roams around a bit too much for his own good, especially when the bass settles. he likes to mingle with the others, hah! so much more gregarious, more social than i ever was. they fill in our gaps though. the empty spaces of our character. round out our personalities. and mine, well he was of the highest frequencies. an outlier for sure. i guess it was his doing, my taste in this kind of music: shoegaze. wall of sound, wall of noise. i could barely control him at my bloody valentine – they had this killer 20 minute song, if you could call it that. it was really just pure static and light show. oh, but my ghost, he was in seventh heaven, let me tell ya. so unrecognized, and misunderstood by so many – he was more alive at that time than i had ever seen him. i think i may have actually cried. no, no i didn’t. i recall that i considered shedding a few tears, but then almost as soon as i’d thought to, i’d let it go. i think instead i went home and slept forever, a dead kind of sleep, me and my ghost.

 

 

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