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Writer's picturemanuwrites

Liquefaction


The smell of part dog piss and part disinfectant hangs in the air making me gag.

The atmosphere is moisture laden; another intensely humid 100 degree day.

I wake up tired. Everything is soaked through, dingy and malodorous; each energy sucking day a reminder that forever has gotten a lot shorter.

What will I possibly achieve today? Too listless to care, as water pours out of me onto the parched cracked earth.

I am sweating my life away, turning into an insignificant puddle for others to absentmindedly splash through.

Everything good and everything bad is melting away.

Abstruse how the days run into each other and no one comes and no one cares. Faces and bodies, relationships and truth, glaciers and wildlife all dissolving.

What are we waiting for? The massive pulsating force that will thrust us out causing us to soar through emptiness before plunging us into refreshingly edifying waters.

Extreme considerations to match extreme weather conditions, extreme rise and extreme fall, extreme feelings and events, extremely extreme extremes.

And all of us, with extremities flailing, are trying to take hold of something, only to realize, horrified, with fists empty when unfurled, that it is all slipping through our fingers, liquefying and there’s quasi nothing solid left to hang onto.

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