Clown

Little Larval Brian’s 1st Day On Earth

Born to a sense of sound and rhythm.  Showing the vital.  Follow the noise.

Walls hurt to crash into. I tried a few times just to check.  I am an animal who loves to dance to the beats I can make.

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The body is surprising and gets stuck. I’m not sure how to get out of the bind it finds itself in.

I get lost in the melancholic changes of this flesh and blood.  Why is pain there?  What’s the problem?  Can I break you?

I don’t think so.

 

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But then a guttural cry explodes from my belly and I discover the pain I have inside.

Different, deeper than wall crashing pain.

This seems like it could break.

 

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Images.  Sensations. Rhythm.  All turns around the central spiral which creates the impetus.

A movement that builds forwards and backwards and up and down.  The rollercoaster of going fast.

Followed by the peace of being balanced.

 

 

 

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A new born soul.  Pure and full of curiosity.  An inhale….a shaky exhale.

I’m funny. I’m a fool.

I’m easily amused.  Lots is funny and beautiful.  Big noises are ridiculous…..and very important.

An option. OK.  A Decision? Surely not.

No, better to  re-group.

 

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Dusky morning.

Wetness on my face.

Breath.

A morphy silhouette.

My skin tastes everything.

 

 

 

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I feel the world is heavy after a while of standing…that’s why I get tired so much.

But it’s lovely to be straight and direct.

Sometimes I don’t wake up for a really long time.

I keep moving in my dreams though.

Dreams of water and air.

I’d like to talk about how the different patterns of light in the sky feel different.

 

Little thing.  Not so stupid.  But simple all the same.

 

 

Music: ‘Caravan’ by The Mills Brothers

 

 

 

 

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