"a man you say? you saw a man?" the officer looked puzzled.
"yes. a railbird you see. The one who stands down there." the man pointed down from his second story balcony.
"he comes at night. He's the type of man that makes you want to shut the blinds and pretend you never saw him like some dumb child hiding behind their hands and thinking they're invisible." the man said with a look of fear that seemed disproportional to his story.
"Well..." the officer trailed off as he looked into the dark street from the second story balcony. He was conversing but not fully present. Something invisible down on the dark stone was still lurking, he could feel it in his blood. But was it just the fog playing tricks on him or was ghost dawg still alive.
"i shut the door and in the morning
it was open
Olemn slammed his hammer and from the sparks on the metal of his anvil came the spheres of the heavens.
Sayrah blew life into the spheres and they moved. From her wheel she weaved the names of people in to mystery.
“If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”
The universe is flux, all life is sorrowful. Don't let it bring you down, it is simply the foreground to a wonder.
Ah yes, this is the heart of my problem. Some days are good when I can interact with the world and understand that silence does not mean that anyone has forgotten me, hates me or is out to get me. Those days I promise myself to remember that feeling every day.
Other days, I forget all of that. I can not remember about promises I make to myself whether they are about the metaphysics or mundane everyday life.
Then some time later on I remember breaking the promise and that just leads to a negative spiral.