It is 5 o'clock in the afternoon. I say afternoon, only because once I admit it's actually evening, I'll be rendered pathetic and depressed over wasting two thirds of day with sleep and dreams.

Instead I now step into the shower. My fingers and feet burn in the forgotten warmth. I wash my face with Palmolive, tough on grease, soft on skin, and the shiny pallor of my cheeks,nose,neck, is rubbed away.

I think, have i woken to sleep? or from sleep? where am i going? what Is there to know? this year or the next, an undecided future.. selecting paths, choosing courses, affecting my future...?

But these thoughts are so abstract, unorganized, and I'd rather stick to Palmolive-sanity than think them.

Now dry, now dressed, and ready to meet the day, I wander out in to the sunset and continue dreaming.

03/01/2008

Author's Note: uncertain about the title. the length. i haven't written prose-type pieces much. suggestions?

Posted on 03/02/2008
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