She walks the track that leads to her desire. In a dark room somewhere she has not been before, she notices that in the night each room looks the same. She reaches out her hand and lands on the floor. Nothing to break her fall. She lies there. Nothing or no one to cling to and no one to break any of the falls that present themselves.
�Who�s there?�
She cries into the night. But there is no one. She does not know what she is doing here. She does not know where the night will take her. She does not know the drum beat of the night to understand. And the quandaries that present themselves. She is at a loss and does not see the splendor of the darkness.
A drug filled desire where the car swerves into a light pole. The sweetness of the moment before the crash. When the night is filled with memories and friends. But she is alive and present in the absence of dillusion. There is no car and no light pole. There is no streaming light leading her to the truth. There is no absence of questions but there are no answers. To the multitude of pain and the lack of bliss.
Copyright 1998, Paranoid gal