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i drempt that someone came to the window and he asked why was that on, that electric-blue ex-mas candle, for it was almost summertime and quite warm out. i smiled sadly and said that it was to find someone who doesn't exist.
'what do you mean?' he asked.
'well, i know that anyone who would understand why it's here and what it means, can't possibly be real.'
'well,' he mused, idly cocking a hip to the side and wrapping an arm around his torso; propped his other elbow upon it to tap at his chin. 'blue is the core of all flames, but this flame isn't real so it will never go out, it's just imaginary.'
i said nothing, simply peered out at him from behind the candle.
'blue is the core of your imagination.'
eyes widen.
'your imagination will never die.'
'my imagination isn't real,' i countered.
'then why am i here?' he whispers.
'you're not.' my lip trembled and then the next i knew i was lying in bed and my cheeks were wet; i wasn't at the window at all and i swear i was just seconds before; like those almost-dreams, or stage 1 sleep-things. i looked up at the blazing candle, above my head and forward from where i lay, and there were suddenly two candles instead of one, because my eyes were so blurred up with tears.
two of them... twice the blow. twice the reminder of how alone i really am in this stinking city; life.
my void does not want.
-- 2.13.61.
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