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Stories & Scripts

Source: Adults

Author: Ann Marie Saarelainen-Simard

Title: Still life

{to a star and a friend in NYC - Hi Meg the "Wingwoman"}

You wake up and you think it is true, the dream has ended but you wake up to another theme, same silence and you still want to know the truth, the truths actually - how many are out there playing games with us? Everything is still but you are still moving, still alive, sleepwalking through life and call that reality because there is no other name. Gods are speaking gibberish.

It is me maybe, I don't want to get it do I, that life is here now not then there but now it is still life, it used to be animated. Take artwork and take a movie. Do you want to stand still, do you want to move? Move on? That is the term the godless gave it. But I am just posing in a tableau. Stuck in the thick painting. Just in my head the pictures move. Moving pictures they used to call them.

Maybe I was born to dream and dream on, dream for others who are wide awake it seems, those who place their tokens just right. I just play around with them. Wake up, he said, I am right here. But I was looking further. Not through him, because I could not see through him the same way I see through other people.

And then one day in this stargazing state of mine I saw through him too. Scanning practice. Some days it was pretty, the others, not. And then came now. I have used my life tokens from too much playing. And it feels just the same. Any way feels right enough. I just don't want to sleep any more. I have insomnia.

Now, at last, at least the stars have names.

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