e o n .

Box Hill Sth, Australia

Hello I’m here now you are too. Thanks for stopping by. it’s Possible something brought you here for a reason? – everything...

It felt so real

Play then read… If you like

The coming hour shifted I felt the time slip
Before I knew it the
Day got brighter yet I felt chilled
When the room was full the noise was a din
I ate my breakfast while no one was watching
Then the news flash came on the screen
I don’t think anybody else noticed but me
There was no sound
But the ….

Images told much.. My God I thought
What the ? This will change everything

I wondered when others would see
I witnessed the vision
It took my mind to all I saw… I can do nothing but watch
When will the others see?

The path to prosperity I thought
It requires making more from others.. I just can’t do sales like that
Profit bites from another

I wondered if humanity will ever work out a system of exchange
Where profit is not the driver of the hungry capitalist beast

My grandma took me to Sunday school as a kid
I liked the gentle lady there who told stories
I remember feeling safe when I looked up and saw the suns rays
Filtering through the clouds

When I heard thunder as a kid
I always thought
God was moving his furniture …

As the flight started to descend I looked out the window
There was LA all bright like a magic kingdom
The pilot said there was congestion
So we were taking a long curved detour
Lucky I was by the window
The view was amazing

LA city of Angeles It was so clear
We where so high
I could even see Las Vegas in the distance what a powerful beam of lights everywhere.

The arrival took forever…The security had been lifted since my last visit
My god what a vast sea of people.

I bought San fransisco sour dough bread last time I was here
I remember how good it tasted

Gone now
The apartment I had in new York A NEW sky scraper had changed the whole feel of the street

I once saw bono on that street corner and Julian Lennon too
I drove by ..what was my old neighborhood
. Feeling a sense of loss
and saw most of the shops had stayed the same.

After the phone call to my friend I decided to walk the old
Route I used to every morning down to the office

Calico is a soft fabric I saw some hanging as an awning

I watched the wind whip up the breeze
Then i celt a bit sad because I remember the last words she said
Before she tirned away
Lifes an endless adventure…the words she said

My senses opened as I felt a chill

There was a man at the doorway
I know he looked suspicious
He was waiting for that woman to get out of her limousine
Looks like an undercover cop to me
He even has flat feet I thought as I looked at his shoes
He glared at me
I felt UN easy about him

I walked back towards the stairway
My ….She’s got hardly any clothes on
she’s beautiful i thought
there was a woman
Dressed do elegantly
She even glowed
Beauty has a kind of radiance I thought…

Suddenly the cab stopped outside a house
I guessed I’d arrived
I paid him
He grunted at me
God I gave a fair tip
Some people just are born rude… As I got out I said you should use a better deodorant
He sped of with screaching tyres

I walked up the path
It was a fresh feeling garden
So many trees and colors
Someone really cared for this garden I thought..

Then I opened the front door i looked and thought
I must know someone here?

the key I had slid in the lock
This place seemed Foriegn to me
How did I get the key to this door? I thought as I opened the Big Oak
Door that made such a deep sound on its hinges.

As I entered I hear piano being played
Two woman
Sitting watching a little girl play such a melodic beautiful piece
of music I sat on the stairs
No one noticed me
They where sipping sherry

As I stood beneath the shower the water ran hot
I got a fright
Then I woke up
Just as she stepped in with me
I thought noooo I don’t want to leave now
But I did

I lay there then
As the sun flittered in
Shadows

Me there in a daze
Trying to recall everything I’d just experienced
Right it down I thought
It might make sense
If I can remember the details

Journal Comments

  • Norma-jean Morrison
  • e o n .