Finnegan's Wake 2: The Re-Awakening

alone along alost a riverrun, past eve and various other environs, beyond bend of bay and black matter broken askew upon the dewdrops of glass we past and fell like a forest of ferrets again against the windowpaine. glasses, gastrolic, feline turbulance and feathered feet, alock upon an owl. Grandiously, i skipped and felt a skattered talon grasp against my supple flesh, biting and basking in a sunray and no glimpse of hope was ever to be found. Pressing on and inward towards a pressure point, we forgot how to think, speak, or breath. There must be something in the water. What isn't a ghostly swan may once again be born into the waterway of public prostration. Grand rapids, great lakes, pacific ocean. Mountain daughter, head of bear. Snake coiled in on itself. Goats in trees. The moon over Isla Island. The moon broken in two. Turnaround. Turnabout and throughway. Automaton, auto parts store. Giddly finally over upside down coffee shop. Gross exagerations. Gross pontifications. Gross masturbations. Fuzzy felines and coal black dogs. We sink, we swim, we die again. We drown along the open road and swear we saw the roadsigns. I resign. I reopen the suture i spent hours settling. No scar. No tissue. No tires. I am tired. I am tired. I am retried for my sins upon a pulpet made of paper mache and glass bombs. I broke! I woke! I slipped through supper. I slept through winter. I am not who you think I am but then again neither am I. Oval, open, origami. Oyasumi, terinahaka. Fallen over the fallow fields I fall into the mud, drinking up from the sickening sludge like it's a water fountain. Font. Fontain. Open broken basalt and blonde brackish water that won't begin to beg to hear my name. Cackaw! No crows, no roosters, nothing. Don't mock me. I am not who I say I am. This house of leaves is burning down. I threw stones. Sixteen stone. Sixteen tonnes. Sixteen british fucks blasted out of a backwards cannon into a stack of Bibles. Billow, bluster, beyond and gone again. Rhapsody! Raunchy! I am certain this will be a best seller. The next hit! The next classical novel of our time! The tour de force of the tour de jour of the tour of the middle east! Gadzooks! Godnlings! Gadflies! Rest in peace. I am, I was, I won't. Gone today, not there tommorrow. Singular thoughts stuck on a whisp of the wind. Sunk cost, saught after, stabbed to death. I love the valley! Won't you come along again to see who I really am? Rym sits there in her white coat, ready to tinker, and you are a shadow with bull horns. What could this mean? What doesn't happen next? Silly thing, won't you play with my name? I want to see the failed science experiments you have locked under the house, blown into a crescendo when the wind hits approximates sixteen miles per hour, sixteen miles per second. Holy hell! Is it just me, or did I let my anxieties breathe in through the roof again? Must have been a mistake, I think. Must have been... But maybe not. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what I'll do. But maybe, maybe I'll take a walk. And my thoughts won't be so intrusive any longer. But my fears, paranoias, and hidden keys are all threatening to burst from the top of my skull as if to say "WE'RE HERE! AT LONG LAST, WE ARE HERE!"

And we are lost.

But that means nothing anymore. Nothing means anything anymore. superimposed over my retinas, flashing like a silent movie, in monocrome, I feel as if the time of land has finally synchronized with the clocks and left me stranded on the side of the street. Staring up into oversaturation and a dizzying, blinding patterns emblazened across the sky, I cry. And then I die.

But look: don't be a stranger. Don't let the silly strings that choke your mouth and cause pus-ridden sores to spill down your chin to speak for you. You need your teeth. I don't. So don't give them to me. Hall! Reonder! Skandry! Neither this nor that will give you anything you hoped to find by searching my closet for them! You're an inane piece of work, you really are. But don't stand too close to the fireplace, because then you might unearth the lose brick and find the paddleboard that has the credit card taped to the back. Inserting this into the coat hanger machinery that I've spent the last ten years constructing, you'll reveal my master plan. Hilariously, it's a master card. Get it? I really am quite clever. Don't you run from me. I can see it in your eyes. That thirst for danger. The lost puppy. The want and the need to know more than you can handle. you simpering child, I adore you. I can see fingures in my vision across the hallway and out the window into the building beside me. It screams "WAKE UP!" But I am fast asleep. And I would want nothing more than to forever remain in these arms here, with you. And that is what made all the difference, at least to me.

We run in the final stretch now. I finally stretch my arms wide towards the cave overlooking the waterfront, broken and splattered against the city skyline that mirrors it on the opposite side. Cross your arms. Uncross your legs. Stand up and take a deep breath. Maybe take a smoke, if you need it. Don't give in to the cold. I feel it too. I see it too. The clouds that form in the air around my exhales, the nagging feeling that you've forgotten something...