Dead Zone

Nothing to get one reading than a dead phone. In the middle of a pocket of a zero signal interruption. On a rainy day. With half the world catching sleep on a holiday morning. Someone drinking his fifth cup of a dream in a dream. In the middle of a grey morning. And to get one thinking if one could be someone else for a day. For a change. From an interview of James Merrill:

Now it may sound — it may be — childish, but haven’t we all dreamed of doing exactly that? To disappear and reemerge as a new person without any ties, the slate wiped clean.

The desk of the mind worn thin into a long dream no one remembers. No one bothers to dismember into parts, because there are no parts. There is no whole to compose.

What a great day to be nothing but new.