Wednesday, October 12, 2011


(Pre-Script: This post should be read as the song, "Superman," #2 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

I remember being inside of a building that was exploding. The thing is, I had seen it from the outside, shining as the sunlight bounced directly off of it's walls, so straight and tall; I could see the first shiver in the shining off of one of the windows, the shift in the light, and instead of running away, I ran straight towards it; right to the very center of the building, and stood there as the structure exploded around me. This is a strange position to be in, or at least uncommon. Around me, things crashed, electric wires got tripped and there were sparks and color almost like fireworks, but all I could hear was the constant underlying hum and crash against crash. When I looked down, sparks were coming off of my fingertips-I had touched some electric current, and it had left me charged, a live wire, so everything I touched was made electric by my internal flame. Strange to stand in the middle of your own implosion, and feel nothing, and be nothing, except just a part of it, the heart of it, but that cannot be true can it? To know that you have become the girl with electric fingers? Yes, it can, and it is maybe not so strange after all.


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