Reconsider some things, reconsider yourself. Make sure, make certain, make mistakes, make foolproof, bullet proof emotions. But there’s nothing outside; you can’t stand outside looking in but you can’t stand not looking in and around. Fact ceases to be true once it’s finished but the consumption of fiction keeps them alive. Reconsider the natural, reconsider the absent. Make love, make babies, make do, take precautionary measures. Those are images of what you’re not and are therefore essential reminders of what you are. Your insides are taken apart and replaced but they say it’s just a phase where you find yourself wanting. You assure them that it will be over soon enough, you say to yourself that it will be over soon enough, you say it before you sleep and when you wake up, but in dreams you find yourself, you long to love but never will.
Sunday night is a state of mind.