It smells like curry.
Everything smells like curry.
Squeezed like a half full tube of toothpaste.
Empty like a half drunken glass of orange juice.
Sour – feeling sour and reading someone’s lips…
Wish they were yours.
“Wish you Were Here”
(by Pink Floyd)
(in my headphones)
Plugged in.
Locked into my Surreality.
Lack of concentration, my mind drifts.
Unfolded wings
Flap, flap
Fly away.
Another thought lost.
Another idea gone.
Music quiet but my head is still buzzing.
Vibrating, everything vibrating.
I grip myself tightly to stop the vibrations.
Squeezing until…
A silence appears.
Squeezing until the smell of curry dissipates from
the stale air.
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