today i am a small blue thing

today i am listening to the veils and suzanne vega over and over again. today i am a small blue thing. i am too nostalgic to do anything about anything. i miss the times when i used to be another mask. like a marble or an eye. i long for the vicious characters in my stories. for the mirrors stoppard or pinter would hold like drearily beautiful love-making scenes. made of china, made of glass. a lost magician as i am with the words and all, they look for me in the caverns and under the shining hats of charlatans. hush, nothing is happening; it's just Baudrillard fighting the infinite emptiness. possibilities do not make life pleasurable, they only skin you alive.