..when I was a kid, 8 or 9 yrs old, I had a recurring nightmare. I saw it over and over again. It was a heart. An alive human heart, pulsating. It was mine, my own heart. And it was in some kind of a solid metal box. I could only see it from the inside. The inside surface had the same shape as a heart, only three or four centimeters bigger, so that the heart had space to beat. I could only see it from the inside, but I knew that the metal walls went on for miles and miles, probably for ever. They were nice, strong walls made of sleek steel. The box was made from a single, solid piece of metal. And in the inside, the walls of this metal box were filled with metal nails. Hundreds of them. Their tips pointing to the inside. They were a couple of centimeters long. They couldnt reach the flesh when it was still. But every time the heart would beat, it would get pierced by them.
And in my dream, I just sat there, floating inside this infinite box, and watched
my heart beat and bleed in a silent loop. If it didnt beat it would die, but every time it
did beat, it bled more and more. I kept dreaming it for years, until it was so easy to recall that I didnt need to dream anymore.
Listening to: her absence
Reading: patterns on my wall