/fa/ - Fashion

bad dream last night: alone but not-I am in a building of sterile, cool rice paper overlaying two feet thick concete. there is no entrance nor exit in reach of my assigned 'room'; the hallways extend for miles down each corridor until they reach frail bridges that connect to other such faceless constructs, the sight tepid in its surrealness, easy and simple in how isolating it is. I am alone but looking for someone who was taken from me-I know they're made to exist here, too. in dreams, a person's cognizance of their surrounding is hauntingly omniscient; I know he's here, even more sure than this limbo's boundaries. I know he's waiting.
there is no way to tell time in a place with no sky, but I know it took lifetimes.
aeons pass until I wander far enough to find him.
no words pass between us-are they really needed?-and we sit down for a meal in the stark bareness of his rice paper room . bowls steam on the floor as we sit and hold each other, everything the same colour of dead wheat save for the porcelain our koi swim in and their calico scales of creams, oranges, delicate china reds.
a disturbance. they begin to devour each other mouth to tail until all that could be seen was their chain of fisheyes, orb ouroboros, black figures suddenly overwhelm the room. we are separated.

8 am: wake up, tearing up at the corners of my eyes from mental exhaustion. seek comfort in his hoodie. it's now a permanent fixture in the corner of my desk, next to the orchids. I unroll it in my half-sleep haze and burrow myself in the scent of him.
it's an ancient polyblend, the black faded to a muted mauve-grey and distressed with his flesh memory. holes line the thick seaming, it swallows me if I put it on. pilling is impossible. "I've shaved it so many times," he told me once, "that at some point…it just stabilized."

I hold it there, fabric to face to fear, for half an hour before I return to sleep. there is a day ahead of me.
[1/2]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJY7BMzx7Iw