Treatment

-j.luna

Seeing her-

is staring through

the album cover

of some

obscure artist-

dreamy

and hazy.

Somewhat,

or maybe in sepia-

adorned by swirling orbs

of brownish light.

As the mind’s camera

captures her

spinning  and smiling

smiling and spinning-

running-

through fields of daisies

or lying on the grass-

with flowers on her hair,

I gasp in awe-

breatheless.

Then,

I let

my imagination pan from the sky,

to her –

her presence,

blurring

the  sun’s angry rays

making them

warm and pleasing to the eye.

During my lunch break today (Nov 11), to cut away from the monotony of the articles that I'm writing (whose deadlines, I must meet), I decided to just type away in front of my desktop. This piece was just made to vent out the creative j.luna who is being suffocated by stress and the shit connected to the grind, sort of like popping fingers, and to prevent my mind from deteriorating or just to kill time.

Please note that I know nothing about cameras, but I know an indie or dream pop album when I see one.