When this dream is dreamt, does the dreamer repent his desire for sex and violence, does he fold the hills and buildings, the gentle skins and car-crash bed-heads into felted pouches and file under Business Unfinished? to be taken up on the next incarnation. Will he pat the pockets of his midnight coat? locate a note reading: “Redeemed: 1 soul. Returned to the substance of shadows” and shall he ask, “is that the measure of existence?”
. . . it could change your life.
>Location when written: Empire Hotel, Jerudong Park, Darussalam, Brunei<
>Music I was listening to: Killing Joke ~ Love like blood<
© Rod McRiven 2017