Another Night and Day Alliance 116

Published in

· 5 years ago

  

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                           .         a n a d a  1 1 6        0 8 - 0 4 - 0 0 
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 .   .   .   .  .   .  .   .  .   .                "Ingredients" 
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  . . .  .   .   . . .  . . .  . . .                  by Effy 

 
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	All that's visible is this simple, white screen.  Audible background 
 of deep, moody bliss.  A canvas representing the creation of infinite 
 dreams, visions, words... there's so many words, and endless combinations of 
 them.  Overwhelming, it's inhibiting.  What was created, hand-picked out of 
 the universe... what was the most complex itself created inhibitions for its 
 creators.  Still here, still there.  Still looking at something I can touch, 
 but what is tangible is not a product of my own mind... it's only glass. 

	Night smiling through the crack of the window.  This is the time it 
 allows me.  I turn feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, words into 
 phrases, and phrases into things I tell the world around me.  In return to 
 what the night provides, I have much to give.  Every tree, the dumpster, the 
 lawn, the broken glass on the pavement, encompassed by cool air laid back 
 against the colorless sky... it all contributes to each flicker of 
 inspiration, and is a common entrepeneur of motivation.  Can't motivate 
 myself.  Not anymore.  It's like a drug, the night... a helpless addiction. 

	But day is just a disease. 

	The drug is the cure. 

	Seize the day, says the night. 

	Their battle continues. 

	Night cures the day, I cure the night.  The "deep, moody bliss" of 
 music is a medicine man standing in the corner of my room.  He works his 
 magick when I tell him to, and when I am temporarily cured, he stops 
 knowingly.  It only reaches a certain tolerance of almost-constance, but 
 withdrawl is not incessant.  It creates a deep shade of depression that the 
 night could never cure like the day. 

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  .           anada 116                       by Effy  (c)2000 anada e'zine . 
       
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