it's the early hours, travelling on a train, falling out of sleep, slipping out of fractured dreams, fading out memories, looking out the window at the raindrops exploding on glass, beads of water form trails that move out towards the edges, the wet city awakens, sydney's summer washed out, everything outwards bound, thoughts and people, colours and shapes, skim outwards. 
that's the name of the game this morning, the general theme. my centrifugal force sends everything away, i'm so worn out and jaded  my vain attempts to reach out fail and i clasp at thin air. passengers refuse to sit with me, or if they do in a matter of moments they move away, far away, people disembark as my repulsion drive kicks in, even the street dwellers i pass each morning and night, at central station avoid me, hiding under blankets, ignoring me, i'm without a place now, a refuge, a man who cannot touch another warm creature, even the dog sense my failure when i climb up the balcony steps. 
my back bone is broken in three places, i can feel the bad joints, sharp pains and tensions, even breathing seems strained as i wheeze and groan my way through my responsibilities. it's not until a hot shower that i begin to feel like i was once human.  can't sleep through the day, theres to much noise, to much light, to much intrusion so i find myself being driven to manly where i trawl the old book shops and wait for my friend to get their tarot cards read. he comes out all weeping and emotional, the future can do that sometimes. i chose not to have a reading, i'm vulnerable enough, don't need some whisperings up the timeline to unsettle me, just a few hours of sleep will restore my fragile aura.
home again i fall asleep fast, like a spent force, uselessly outliving it's need, the void swallows me up and i am grateful to follow the rest of the day... out.