the clock that hung on my wall,

it started turning backwards, as though it always have. 12 - 11 - 10 - 9 - 8 - back it went. It was morning, and there I was, looking outside my window, at what was to me, the most interesting sunset.

and then my alarm starts ringing

and then I fell to the ceiling. my feet clung there, like some messed up gravity was tugging at my weight. (take that, Isaac Newton) I looked up, expecting the rest of my furniture to come crashing any minute, but they never did, it was just me. I fell to the ceiling and that's all there is to it.

I wondered, eyeing the glass. I looked at my eyes that looked at my eyes; I wondered, if my reflection is me. or if I am my reflection. If in this state of being upside down everything is changed. If everything is reversed, why do I still keep running? You would think, if you lose the chains, there would be no need to escape. I wonder. looking at the glass, if I am the one trapped in a mirror or if she is.

even the happiest people in the world still wear a frown. If you hang them upside down

still, there's the window: (here we go again) no more pixie-dusts this time, just the mere sight of that wide open window is comforting. I stood at the edge. This time, this leap of faith will not bring me crashing down down down, onto the hard ground. I fall, upwards, to the sky. (apparently in this alter-world gravitational law where in you never fall: you float.) If floating is just as fierce as falling, if floating means you still go nine point eight meters per second squared, the same acceleration as gravity, only upward.

but this leap of faith is one I have not yet taken, because the risks I take and the heights I brave are not inversely proportional to what I seek. and because it is much much easier, to watch everything from a distance.

then again maybe it wouldn't hurt as much - just in case the floating fails and I happen to land where the ground is hard and jagged rocks break my fall into a million pieces of crushed bones

when I came back, my reflection, she said: "the sexiest thing is trust" and that I was a big fat cow in thin girl's clothing. I was still thinking if she meant the opposite of what she said (because either way it would've made perfect sense)

I might as well be dreaming.
because I never fall. I float.

Still you'd think I have to wake up sometime.

the clock that hung on my wall,

it started turning backwards, as though it always have. 12 - 11 - 10 - 9 - 8 - back it went. It was morning, and there I was, looking outside my window, at what was to me, the most interesting sunset.

and then my alarm starts ringing

and then I fell to the ceiling. my feet clung there, like some messed up gravity was tugging at my weight. (take that, Isaac Newton) I looked up, expecting the rest of my furniture to come crashing any minute, but they never did, it was just me. I fell to the ceiling and that's all there is to it.

I wondered, eyeing the glass. I looked at my eyes that looked at my eyes; I wondered, if my reflection is me. or if I am my reflection. If in this state of being upside down everything is changed. If everything is reversed, why do I still keep running? You would think, if you lose the chains, there would be no need to escape. I wonder. looking at the glass, if I am the one trapped in a mirror or if she is.

even the happiest people in the world still wear a frown. If you hang them upside down

still, there's the window: (here we go again) no more pixie-dusts this time, just the mere sight of that wide open window is comforting. I stood at the edge. This time, this leap of faith will not bring me crashing down down down, onto the hard ground. I fall, upwards, to the sky. (apparently in this alter-world gravitational law where in you never fall: you float.) If floating is just as fierce as falling, if floating means you still go nine point eight meters per second squared, the same acceleration as gravity, only upward.

but this leap of faith is one I have not yet taken, because the risks I take and the heights I brave are not inversely proportional to what I seek. and because it is much much easier, to watch everything from a distance.

then again maybe it wouldn't hurt as much - just in case the floating fails and I happen to land where the ground is hard and jagged rocks break my fall into a million pieces of crushed bones

when I came back, my reflection, she said: "the sexiest thing is trust" and that I was a big fat cow in thin girl's clothing. I was still thinking if she meant the opposite of what she said (because either way it would've made perfect sense)

I might as well be dreaming.
because I never fall. I float.

Still you'd think I have to wake up sometime.