wolven7 | Means.

Lightning fields, and static on wires. Snow drifts, in from the north, the west-east direction. Connection. Lines are frozen in places, and the wires snap from the strain of the cold and the heat, and when they threads get that tight you have to play them out. Play the fibres, tensile thin, like a bass to rock the world down and kill the complacency, whatever that means. Like you little bastards can do more than shout buzz-words at each other, before the communication breaks down, and you have to start again.

"You can't keep it together, anymore; you can't play those parts, and keep the frenticism up to speed." She took a drag on her cigarette and squinted through the smoke, and melted into it, like she knew i liked her to do, sometimes. "If you don't stop running faster, you'll never realise the fact of the island." And balanced that all out, by obliquely paraphrasing Carroll. The cigarette inhaled her deeply, and dropped to the ash tray, and i could never remember if i was supposed to smoke her, after she was done.

It's cold, and i walked down to the corner, to see what the temperature was. If they had melted, in the night, then it was spring, soon, and that meant new changes. The beauty of life, continuing on. If they were still frozen, the blanketing, absolving snow was my friend, still. I saw them, there, screaming in place, where i'd put them, and {k}new that everything was going to be all right, for now.

"But where does that leave me?" The psychiatrist wanted to put me on drugs, and tell me that my thought patterns were a clear sign of depression, needing chemical corrections. I wanted to rip his throat out, and say "See?! That's Frustration, not fucking Depression! Frustration from actually Thinking, and not trying to solve things with fucking Severely Altering Drugs!" But, instead, i asked, "But where does that leave me?"

"What do you mean?" Knowing damn well...

"I mean what options does that present to me, for continuation. I'm not taking your drugs, and i'm not going to magically stop thinking about this. So where am i?"

"Maybe you need to think it differently, this time." And all six of her arms waved at me, and the electricity jumped from sword to skull, to delicate fingertip.

It means everything, to me, and it's time to get dressed. Hurry up and wake up, or you'll be late to school. I hate that place, where i hate that place that's supposed to teach me things. If i hate the place where i do what i love, then it's doing something wrong. Or i'm not seeing something right...

I walked along her bladed edges, grasping at conceptions of her, trying to understand. And, after i had shredded everything i thought i was, i noticed the others, on mine.