In Continuum.

Adventures In The Deep Night

They love me like I was a brother
They protect me, listen to me
They dug me my very own garden
Gave me sunshine, made me happy

I wrote a card to a friend of mine.I wrote a card at nearly 4am yesterday.There was a buzz coming from the neon tube,the blue-white light of the lamp pouring out from under the plastic cover,lighting up the table.The marker was a little thick,but it's not like it made a difference.The buzzing was distracting,and so was the sound of the fan right next to me.I turned them off and silence prevailed.So started the adventures in the deep night.

I had my left ear on the surface of the table again.I remember doing those when i was a kid,in the middle of the night and watching the streetlights from far away.I used to hear the sounds of hard thuds coming from inside the table.Now that i think about it,they were probably the neighbours from upstairs or downstairs,and you know how vibrations can travel.But there i was,i remember,imagining little workers inside my drawers,toiling away in the middle of night,building...well,something.And there i was again,with my head on the table.I dont know why i did it,but i just did.Like the books i bought today,everything is impulsive nowadays.

Nice dream.
Nice dream.
Nice dream.

My Coldplay book is a little bent.Shit.The bottom right corner succumbed to gravity,bending just so slightly outwards.I took it out of the shelves,and from under the book,a plastic sheet came sailing through the air.Yeah,great.Your bloody picture.Of me.

I can see the eraser marks.How deep your pencils went.I cant smell the lead anymore,but rather the scent of the paper.Dated 181004,though it shouldve been 181005.You signature looks like Sara Lu,and my hands are out of shape.I never really looked closely at the picture before,never paid too much attention.Because a year ago,one week after i recieved this,i tucked it away.You tucked me away,by getting attached.And now,broken up and reattached,i am still tucked away.Like the picture,under my Coldplay book,gathering dust and the likes of them.I can see the eraser marks,the eraser marks.I can see your hand,with the pale white wrists,running over the surface with each pencil stroke.I can see it,that special way i remember,of you holding them.

I call up my friend, the good angel
But she's out with her answer phone
She says she would love to come help but
The sea would electrocute us all

I went to bed afterwards,talking to myself.I felt the blanket between my legs,the soft pressure of it upon my chest,and the sensation of it brushing against my cheeks.I hugged my blanket,instead of being covered by it,just staring into the darkness.A certain ritual,for me,before i go to sleep.Just part of the adventures in the deep night.And i wondered,and i wondered,and i wondered.

I dreamed of myself coming home from town.The front door opened,and the house was dark.I took off my shoes,and felt something was wrong.The silence,the absence of somebody.My mother,i thought.I couldnt feel her.

I dashed to my room,and next to the table was a figure on the floor.It was her,my mother,in a puddle of blood.She was facing down in the red puddle,but her white shirt wasnt stained,nor was her face.They were dry,and in my arms she felt limp.I shook her hard and called out to her,and gradually she opened her eyes.

But when she did so,she transformed.It wasnt her,but there i was in my own arms,in a puddle of blood.My blood,drenching my clothes and my hair,lifeless and dead.I released myself,and i crashed back into the puddle,lifeless and blank.I stumbled backwards,arms supporting the fall.I screamed,i really did.And i woke up,startled,terrified,at 5am...

If you think that you're strong enough
If you think you belong enough
If you think that you're strong enough
If you think you belong enough

Nice dream,nice dream...
Nice dream,nice dream...