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Entertainment for the Braindead
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The Air
Count to three and open your eyes. know that each single one of those lashes is heavier than my heart：the lightest breeze lifts it up high, the softest wind sends it far away. how or where from I came I seem to forget. how can anyone fail to remember what place they belong, what place they're at?
I hear the the wind in the trees, it's longingly calling for me. I'm the fine, grainy sand, I take to the breeze, I'll keep it company.
in the morning rinse off the dust off your plates. yet a few grains of sand in your coffee will keep you reminded of your fate. being this fragmented and spread, this weightlessly small, my pieces lie there in your hand. then scattered and tossed by the storm, I follow its call, not questioning where I will land. the strongest gust rips me apart. yet a few grains of me in your coffee will keep you reminded of my heart.
the lightest breeze lifts me up high.
the softest wind sends me far away.
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