Plug in, zone out and feel. Lament, mostly, but its something. The clocks ticked, the moments became transient and now they are well and truly dead. Everything before has changed to survive through the present and into the future, but we remember what it used to resemble. How the dust and scratches have primed it for its new purpose, its new stance. Even inanimate they explode under my touch with images and sound and become life. They stand their ground, stuck, still and let me see through them, let me see the past and relive it all once more. Its a gravestone, its got an epitaph that manifests through me and only I can perceive its potent memories, but with a faded luster. A strange filter that adds noise and scratches act like bandages over the tears. And when they're too far gone, too decrepit or forgotten for that second they'll collapse into the sea of unconsciousness, where they'll dissolve like foam and dissipate into fragments of nothingness.
(The song that inspired this passage was The Horrors - Still Life)
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