so im in the kitchen. and im dancing. to sonic youth. and the years pass silently. but here in my kitchen. right now. everything is the same as its always been. gardens grow in darkland. days fade against the window of the commuter train. pain ebbs and flows into brief moments of self medication and lucidity.
but here at this moment. im dancing to sonic youth in my kitchen. the kitchen i no longer cook in. i dance in. and out of your frame of reference. your point of view. your world order. your timeline.
i wish you were here. you could dance too.