Cake in a bowl

April 23, 2009
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As far as i can see without tipping my head upwards, the world, where it meets with my eyelids, falls to my cheeks and then scrolls itself back up again. This continues in rhythm and I'm inside a spinning corona watching as the world folds and rips itself back open. The dim tinted, yellow, luminous surrounding expands itself over the field of my vision while i sit still and wonder why my hands are saturating as if emerged in snow; the white i swore i saw by the worn soles of my feet. Then i remember we are in fact, inside of a car, parked in a public garage and it couldn't possibly be snowing inside-we are certainly not in Alaska like i said we were. Once my consistent laughter subsides, i immediately look to see if the world has returned to the way you would normally see it. Reality and i collide.

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