Where the wild things are.

And then it starts;
He knows it is coming, unavoidable and as sure as the tail follows the mouse.
It begings with a low grumbling, somewhere in the back, increasing in volume at first; a race care rounding the curb, then settling for just the sound of a soft but constant snoring.
It is almost like it is not there, but as an old grandma knitting in the background near the furnace who seems not really a part of every day life; it is however determined to stay.

Then the pitter-patter starts, a thousand little feet stamping like ever so tiny army boots on a wooden stage, millions of spiders marching under a war flag or equally the same amount of dripping taps, one drop at the time, just a nano second apart to get more impact.
It perfected its ways as it has been this way before.
And that is the base; this is just the wallpaper, blotted and peeled, stained with hazy but dark brown spots, might be blood, still even NCIS wouldn't be sure.
It is the background of the scene; now the real show starts.

As the monotonous humming, toning down to the sound of a constand far away thunder, starts to ease him mercifully; a sudden extremely bright carbide flash tears the velvet darkness in to a blinding no-colour, into nothing, even the shadows get sucked out, no sight, no marking points except the constant droning of the snore tapdancing staccato with the dripping drops of the broken taps.

The first flash disappears leaving that sickening green purple reflection but before the healing dark sets in, it's back and it brought mates. Together they work up a crescendo of hot rods of pain poking in to weak unprotected, naked flesh.
They don't go all off at once like Chinese firework that can not wait to stun the public. No, as timing is everything when you go for effect : Dark! Light! Dark! Light! Confusing the hell out of him as if he is a fly walking on a neon lighted zebras back.
As the pain sets in, he buries his face in his hands knowing that the worst is still to come.
He moans like a child, fearing the screams will take over as soon as,,,
There they are! The faces!
The horrible twisted mouth laughing like mad, showing him a deep dark gap between the crooked brown teeth! They come closer,,, and he can't move! They are attacking from all sides, going through him; images scraping at the darkside of his eyes, drauthing pictures of skulls with worms and leftover molted apple sauce, with white bemossed ten days old baby carrots and green corn flaoting in a drab that foams and bubbles, coming at him wave after wave.
The horrid painted faces with big ruby puckered up lips mouth in slow-motion the most horrible words. The laugther that doesn't reach the blankety blank red eyes! Out of the grey tanned heads sprout fingers that turn into claws penetrating his stomach as long sharp rusty needles, probing, hurting, turning him inside out.
And the smell! Oh, God the smell! Sewer pit smells, rotten eggs, sour milk, and tastes that he only recognizs because he has been here before.
But it is worst this time! It's the end of his world for sure!
Foul air, one stinkin gulp after another, overpower his nostrils, torture him.
The wild things are fully ignorant to his cries of woo, only obeying the law of consequence which is molted into stone and beyond his powers. Relentless as the hammer of Thor they smash into him with an ease of a continuous night summers beach breeze that caresses the pale sand.
He tries to outrun it but the horrors are inside him; plucking crescendo at his intestines, playing the big drum ochestra low in his back and going for the all out final of a orange and gold firebold lightshow unseen since the beginning of time.

He can not escape; he has to endure the wild things, that keep him in their graps, momentarily, untill it is over once again. He knows his eyes will look upon the soft cream of his bedroom walls where the sunlight will color golden specs to make life all light and easy to bear.
And while he waits,,,
He vows on everything that is dear to him, that,if he survives,,,
He will never drink again!

Déja vue

I hold inside me
Your words of love
The soft spoken promises
The whispers carried on dragonfly wings
as hot rays of sunshine
I feel
The tantelizing touches
The fingers tracing the outlines of my heart
My hopes well hidden
Our dreams of one day
I always knew

I hold inside me
And I always knew
Your words of love
Our dreams of one day
The soft spoken promises
My hopes well hidden
The whispers carried on dragonfly wings
The fingers tracings the outlines of my heart
as hot rays of sunshine
The tantalizing touches
I feel
Déja vu
I feel
The tantalizing touches
As hot rays of sunsine
The fingers tracing the outlines of my heart
The whispers carried on dragonfly wings
My hopes well hidden
The soft spoken promises
Our dreams of one day
Your words of love
I always knew
what I hold inside me

I always knew
Our dreams of one day
my hopes well hidden
The fingers tracing the outlines of my heart
The tantalizing touches
I feel
as hot rays of sunshine
The whispers carried on dragonflywings
The soft spoken promises
Your words of love
I hold inside of me

Vertigo - Babel

Colors pale,

Morning sun

Untouched peachy sky

Peac and beauty

Look down on

Hungry men

Blind and deaf

"must go higher !"

"Taller !"

"Greater !"

Crazy beehive

Ignoring life,,,

Thoughts whirl dizzy

Too many words,

meanings lost,

drown in confusion

Golden tower shaking !

Silence banging at the doors !

Little man

on the edge

cries,,,