Text for a comic (always drunk when I'm not around)

In Amada Acres, you are always one day away from real. For this reason, we have so few scenes
of grocery shopping or reading a magazine half-heartedly while brushing teeth. Love always stays
once it has started. And we decide ourselves whether we die or, like legends, live forever, already dead.
posted by Adam at 10:17 PM [edit]

A map of sleep

This is a map of sleep, and this is my favorite part:
the corners, where a ringing phone can wake you
and you answer "No, I was already waking up," not lying
exactly but not quite accurate either. On the mornings
when this bed held two the ringing phone was often instead
a misplaced forearm or foot, saying "hello, this is the world"
as it tapped against the map of sleep, almost breaking it.
It didn't. We remained intact another hour. When at last
the map dissolved--it never did break so much as decompose--
we'd find out all over again the softness and hardness of fabric.
We'd wonder about the poets so enchanted by dreams,
who maybe never realized that the firmest beauty is in the waking.
posted by Adam at 7:30 PM [edit]