seasons ending.

duders,
falling asleep in the so-late-of-nighttimes-that-it's-tomorrow-times
isn't really so terribly bad for you.
it's the waking up in the upper-middle of the night,
which is to say, the very early morning, on the floor,
in the foot-fetishy severed-human-extremity-housing nothing room.
yeah, i've got a nothing room.
and y'know what you do in there?
oh, c'mon, dummies-
you do NOTHING in a nothing room;
wellllllll,
nothing besides fall asleep on the floor apparently.
yeah.
i guess that's now a thing
the thing is,
i think that angela,
the ghost who comes kit-and-kaboodle with the empty rooms
of the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress as the disquiet spirit formed
from a semi-shrugged-off mortal coil that's tethered toe-and-nail
to the mummy foot on my mantel,
must've been feeling jealous or neglected,
because i woke up sure that somebody was kidding me.
and i was otherwise alone, of course.
reeling, and worn out,
bruised from unforgiving hardwood planks on my bony body,
and sore, stiff, and sour from the same lack of softness.
y'know the line- lying on the floor, i come undone.
word.
my frosty face was freezing, complete with rug-lines,
and fueled with a myriad of mixed emotions and disoriented desires.
after being forced to widely eye-open into complete darkness
because of crazy person dreams about neck bites and face grabs
and hair pulls and that sort of unlikely activation.
(werewolfen full moon savage lunatic jauns are in F*ing effect right now)
angela might've got a little succubus on my sh!t,
because i had company for a bit, for dinner, and laughter,
and worthy woodsly participation into the small hours of these days.
evening into night into the assuredly self-conscious early-shirley o'clocks.
and it was lit by the best kind of bright spots.
yuuuup.
you know what i'm talking about?
no?
oh, sorry.
i'm talking about a string of XI-mas-style hallowe'en
candy-corn-colored lights.
neighbors,
they're so good for looking at good-looking stuff,
and good-looking people.
check the teleport:

c'mon.
there were flickering candles casting shadows all dramatic-like,
and steadily burning bulbs to burnish our faces in golds and glows.
yes.
that's pretty much totally expert.
so what happens when it's floor time?
it feels like everything, although i'm pretty sure it's actually nothing.
but all of it is really unfolding along an arcing storyline,
a segment of a larger circle,
built on appreciation for all of the best parts with all of the best ones.
and, of course.
a small patch of seeded sleep, complete with hard-style dreamings.
listen y'all.
i'll take it.
slow going and tentative steps are still forward progress.
uh-huh.
time traveling into a future of our own creation?
that's where all of this leads;
never quiet, never soft.....