splitting raindrops

i am in sydney, finally.
third time lucky. bits and pieces are splitscattering around me. i'm catching threads as my right hand moves, my head itches. it's 3:37 here. i am disorientated.
as soon as i get here, i am interrogated. i have to leave later on today. i cannot settle. i am unsettled.
my skin is playing up too. my whole being seems wrong, out of balance... receptors are playing up.
(de ja vu all over again)


it's a strange desire that keeps me from resting. there are so many bits in this house. so many small pieces of paper and cds and books and toys and useless boxes of bits. ready to be split. i want to take them all and scatter them. i want to take all the thoughts from my father's head and pin them up on a wall made out of the cellophane and dusty documents and filed decomposing artworks that line this house. i want to read what my sister writes. i want to enfold in arms and scent and sleep with breath on the back of my neck.

my computer is overheating. i should probably go to bed now, early start.
goodnight.