a scent of a certain era comes along with the dust in my house. Collages of incidents, series of unfortunate events, once buried come alive.
Why so hard to shove these speckles of soil off my doorsteps??? All my plants have died ages ago.
Marks-fingerprints on my mirrors? but they have just been wiped seconds ago. Puddles of water drip from the ceiling, and its not even raining outside.
I erase the marks and they show up again with an eraser with thinner..all the same. I paint and repaint over and above the holes in my wall but the cracks seem wider then before. significant, as if untouched unrenovated uncared for unworthy I vacume the dust over and over again it has became a habit i cant live without. so irritating as it is. when the fatigue wears off for a fraction of a moment i can sit i rest my case! and....... it appears again!!!!! The scent, the soil, the marks and fingerprints the puddles, the cracks The dust.
the more i shove and push away, the bigger they get. and then i start to wonder... Was this madness really about my house, or more about my head?!?