Shadow of a hundred birds

Passed by some friends' place earlier. I wanted to say hi to them but i figured they're probably still asleep, so i decided just to go straight home.

On my way, i felt a bit tired. Probably because of the heat or the lack of sleep. Save those times when i was as drunk as how the dogs with bouncing heads on a dashboard of a car speeding on a raod that has a thousand patches of asphalt and a few forgotten holes instead of a flat surface of concrete seem to be and the time when i felt like a chocolate bar melting slowly inside a microwave oven that's been set to cook pop corn 'cause i took one too many antibiotics, i haven't had any decent sleep for weeks or even months. It's hard to tell time when some things that are supposed to be moving slow are going fast and some things that are supposed to move fast are slowing down. Not just to the point when they reach equal speed, but up to the point when you'll think you're in a topsy-turvy world. I think i'm delusional from all those voices singing in my head. Why won't they listen to me? Why won't they stop?

If you could create an image in your head with what i've written, then you probably have an idea of how i feel right now. There are lots of ways to describe it. A clock ticking without moving. A rotating fan that you could see and hear clearly, but w/o even a lite breeze blowing at you.

I just realized how i feel earlier this morning while walking towards that overpass in Philcoa. Shadows of dozens of birds passed by on the pavement in front of me. I looked up, and just when i thought i was about to feel awe, a horrid thing happened. Somebody was killing those birds -- it seems with a slingshot and some rocks. I tried looking around to stop the person who was doing this, then i realized i was staring at a bird with one eye, holding a stone with my left hand, putting it on some rubber that's attached to a Y-shaped wooden stick that i was holding with my right hand. I felt like the pockets of my pants get deeper and it felt like it was getting heavier -- being filled with rocks. I knew it wasn't real. I saw the birds fly behind the building when i raised my head to see them. I don't even know how that slingshot looked like. It was just like a dream when you somehow recognize certain things, but don't really see then.

Stunned, I tried to ignore it and start walking. I did manage to put one foot in front of the other, and continue walking. However, the thought of what i imagined crept thru my body, filling me with what i must have felt had that really happened. I realized that i've had that feeling the whole time. It's what's been keeping me up even when i lie still in bed with my eyes closed for several hours. Before, tho, i never really knew how i feel -- there were just these sensations of my heart speeding up, my body turning numb and my tears welling up from my eyes like tea pouring forth from a cup that's still being filled even when the saucer is full.