i walk, effortless, and with blisters in my eyes, tearing up, in the cold winter's wind. cheerfulness is probably something i felt yesterday, or maybe the day before. honesty lurks behind me, ready to stick tendrils in if i ever forget myself for even a moment. and there is nighttime's shallow darkness, around me. the darkness that always gives way to light.

i walk, and the shadowy figures scream at me, but it just sounds like music when i listen carefully to their cries. a meager pittance is their offering, in the face of my still-beating heart, my body's power to convert consumables into motion, into action. i listen, and i hear the snow falling. it rips through the air.

i walk, up the icy steps, up to the train station, and i weave through the nest of webs. the spiders want only their next prey, they consider me too sizable, not fit for their stomachs. the conductor hastens me, ushers me with a frantic flicking motion, that the last train is about to depart. if i miss it, i will sleep on the ice, and i will dream of the moon, but i do not rush, as i have learned to sleep anywhere, to dream of anything, anything that i need to dream.

i walk, through the electric heat, through the sickened, sweet stench, and wrap my arms around the wires in the elevator shaft, and i slide down, to the basement. i slide, and my hands burn, and through the pain, my mind wanders. i think of what a world with more fully-formed ideas would look like. i think of how it would feel for things to spring forth, with their whole shape, with no work, no carving. there is a softness, somewhere, that is quickly forgotten.

i walk, on the basement floor, and i see the dreams stamped on the walls, stains of considerations, ideas, memories, sometimes fledged, sometimes scrambled. i place my palms on the walls, and i feel the whiteness and burning of a disrespect for friction. i let it consume me. i do not shiver.

i walk, through doors that catch my coattail as they close by automation, and i continue walking until i am freed. as if i did not notice. i noticed. there is a state of mind that commits us to actions, regardless of their efficacy. we have planned, and we shall execute. in this state, there is to be no room for improvisation.

i walk, back and forth, on a moving train, voices surrounding me, eyes catching my gaze, but they do not stop me. i move as if possessed. i am aware of their subtle, judging stares. i move as if i have other priorities. i see myself from their perspective more than i see myself from my own. i stumble, and continue walking.

i walk, in an empty traincar, side to side, back and forth, end to end. the train has reached the end of its line. there are no more passengers. there is no more light. i let the darkness cradle me, underground, where nothing can reach. in the morning, i will be carried backwards to somewhere i've seen before, and i will climb the ropes of the elevator shaft. tonight, i will sleep standing on my feet, and i will dream of lying down, beneath sheets of ice.

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