Wednesday August 9, 12:01 am

Production. Mind incarnate.
Walking down to your house. Walking down the street, walking down the drive. Driving down the walk, walk driving me down. Down, down drive the walk. Walking, forward drive, a drive. Walking into the drive, the drive driving the walk, the walk walking the drive, driving while walking, driving into walk. Walking down to your house, house, housing the walk, driving the street. Where the street drives into walk, down there is your house. Walk and the street is driving. Drive and the street is walking. Street walk and drive. On the corner of. Walk to the corner of. Drive to. Walking down to your house, where the walk becomes a drive.
The tree's branches hang over the street, sputtering the streetlight. The street hangs the tree's branches, the branches sputter, the streetlight hangs. Hanging, the streetlight, sputters the tree. The streetlight's branches, hanging the tree. Walking to your house, sputtering, hanging over the walk, driving under the branches, tree and streetlight.
Knocking on your door, standing on your porch, breeze waiting with me. Knocking, standing, waiting. Door, porch, breeze. Waiting with your door, standing on the breeze, knocking.
I am a breeze knocking, standing, waiting, sputtering. The branches hang on your porch, driving into the breeze, walking past the streetlight. The streetlight and porch, walking and waiting. Knocking at your door. Tree and streetlight.
Condensation on a window, christmas lights smudged: waiting, warm, sputtering. The moon solid, clattering in the breeze, sputtering, leaves, branches, tree and waiting after knocking at your door. Breeze smudging the porch, leaves walking on the porch. Porch and door, porch driving door, tree's branches, sputtering the street, hanging over the street, porch, waiting with streetlight and me.
Knocking. Door and porch.
Clattering behind the door, sputtering, walking, driving, hanging, smudging, waiting, and:
open with me.
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Production:
White is the cloth and so is the hand that chose it. White is the colour that shelters itself in your hair, where it cannot be found: but: you attempt to show me. White is the light that burns too hard, bleach in the air, pressurizing everything. I see white. You become whiter. White is the colour of intensity and ambiguity, always donned to symbolize choice and transformation. White is the colour of option, and, perhaps, invitation.
Red is the cloth and so are the eyes that chose it. Red is the colour that burns on my skin and eventually kills it off. Red is always a battle flag, and so, an appeal of desperation. Red is not the colour of ambiguity, it is one of foolish decisiveness and confidence, always entangled in error. Red is the fool's colour. It is closed off and never too far away from doom.
White is the cloth. Red is the cloth. White hand, patient, flexible, choosing. Eyes, red, glancing too fast, no real choice involved, merely chance. Red and White. White and Red.
************
Production:
Chaise lounge and elongation, this elongation itself a production, suggesting pre-conceived notions and hidden agendas, combine together in a stellar union of design and acrobatics, producing an aesthetic effect, a blush of outward stimulation with a simultaneous desire for deep introspection.

Nowhere is this going and nowhere i dive with it.

A heavy landing and the wings come off.