Cold and dark. A crescent moon. Light. A flame. Smoke. A cigarette in hand on hand at hand. Thoughts breathed in breathed out blown up in smoke. Ash. Footsteps on the sidewalk. Step by step. Step over. Cracks. Cracks. Step on a crack and your back and you’re back to the question. What? No answer. Why? No answer when asking where does it come from. The anxiety. Cracks. A flame. Smoke. Puff puff puffing away in a puff of smoke. Ash. Step by step over. And why? But where oh where does where arise the anxiety and why the anxiety when no anxiety really and really how so but know not better. Impressions. Expressions. Smoke. Ash. Footsteps on the side. Walk. Step. Step up step on step over step to step off the step. Step by step. Breathe in. Breathe out. The smoke rises and curls, higher, still, higher still. Rises and curls. Clouds. The sky. Up up and away. Clouds of smoke. Ash. The air. Breathe. The anxiety. Everywhere. Where am I? Nowhere. Who am I? No one. Or else. Anyone is anywhere at anytime. Anyhow. Tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. Here and now. At once. Thoughts. Stones. Words. Stones. Meaningless meaningful meaning. Stoned. You know? You know that you know not that you know. Or not. There is no anxiety. There are no steps. There is no road. To oblivion. Darkness. Cold. The moon. Light. A flame. Smoke. A cigarette. Ash. Out of hand. And foot. Steps. Cracks. No. This side. No. That side. No. Besides. No. Answer. No. Anxiety.
Copyright © 2008 Marco Alexandre de Oliveira