And The Birds are Closer: #journalarchive from a more intense time
When there isn’t Time there is Limbo. And there is nothing there, but Loud and Quiet: And the thinnest of needles prick the hard-worn, calloused places; and the jagged blade barely marks the most sensitive.
You wonder when Time will return, even though with it comes The Avalanche. The Avalanche, and then the silence after.
And The Birds are closer than they’ve ever been, but not this time not this time not this time you don’t let yourself.
You can’t let yourself, although you haven’t yet decided whether it’s because you care, or you feel guilty. But they do it to you, no? They do it, and it hurts it hurts and you become The Bird make it stop and you want them to hurt but they already do of course but you want them to hurt it hurts it hurts -
I am more and less of a child than I want to be. And Time coming is an inevitability. And the Limbo, this time, has Consumed me.