It was a state of aloneness. It was the kind of place that started shooting political prisoners because it suspected that they would enjoy solitary confinement and internal exile too much.
Will WilesStichwörter: dark-humor aloneness
Nothing snubs quite like a cat. What evolutionary purpose did it serve, this inherent disdain, this artful blanking?
Will WilesStichwörter: cats
A room is not just a room. A room is a manifestation of a state of mind, the product of an intelligence. Either conscious (...) or unconscious. We make our rooms, and then our rooms make us.
Will WilesStichwörter: inspirational
There is a moment between sleeping and waking where one is free. Consciousness has returned, but awareness has yet to rip away the thin screen between the waker and his surroundings, his reality. You float free of context, in no place – not sleeping, not fully awake, not at the mercy of the unknowns of the subconscious, and not yet exposed to the dull knowns of care and routine. It is at this point, between two worlds, that I think I am happiest.
Will WilesFurniture is like that. Used and enjoyed as intended, it absorbs the experience and exudes it back into the atmosphere, but if simply bought for effect and left to languish in a corner, it vibrates with melancholy. Furnishings in museums... are as unspeakably tragic as the unvisited inmates of old folk's homes. The untuned violins and hardback books used to bring 'character' to postwar suburban pubs crouch uncomfortably in their imposed roles like caged pumas in a zoo. The stately kitchen that is never or rarely used to bring forth lavish feasts for appreciative audiences turns inward and cold.
Will WilesI was woken by a shell-burst in the trench of sleep. Heart skipping, with eyes fighting light, my thoughts sprang up like a field of starlings startled by a farmer's gunshot, a thousand separate, autonomous specks that swirled into a single united black shape.
Will WilesStichwörter: sadness depression rude-awakening morning-thoughts
Europe's skies are older than America's; Europe's clouds start over there and by the time they reach here they are tired and ragged from their journey.
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