roses and tomatoes

roses are green and red, and yellow, and orange.

tomatoes are green and red and yellow and orange.

roses smell nice. tomatoes smell nice.

now, how come, we do not put tomatoes in a vase, and do not eat roses for salad?


my dead mother inhabits my dreams, mutely disappearing at the most odd places, leaving me forsaken, confused, lost. well, i have not been too well of late, but yes, i am getting by, and this does not help.

and i do not need a confirmation of my general confusion. i know i am confused. only i wish i knew what it is i am confused about. it is so confusing, to be confused about something one does not know. and disappearing mothers in one’s dreams only aggravate the whole thing.

and now, when suddenly everything is too far and painful, the dream of setting my tent up in a forest moves to… moves to… moves…. etc.

does insanity begin like this, or has it begun already?

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