these journeys i makes, the wayward leaps and jumps-hold your tears-they fall-and we can smile after the lasting effect of a bubble-POP. they gravitate to the fantasy for today - jollygood-jollyjollygoodtime, if i may have a lime to add to his tea and there will some meaning to hold on to as we join i in the classical journeys. Gute Nacht - Schubert.
are we ready for the show? i is not ready for the repetitions. well, he will never be ready for sure. we'll find some other way, the rude shock of finding no message behind the show. are you distracted? distracted by your own interpretation? there are affairs going on, the weaving and the trashing of the mind; little did they know, how bubbly they are, in the planetary systems, galore with exploding and imploding matter -POP. they fall, just as they once came to being by virtue of Chance. but there is no chance involved in this pattern of writing. you read and read and read, till you find something within it, to point to someone, connecting the dots, that you, yes, you are only capable of. But we won't go as far as to say we all die and disappear. to die - let this be the theme - and we die because we thematize. there is a breathing, very labourious and meticulous movement of the fingers to make possible the black text you now read. And there are connections that cannot be listed down now. But we can know, that many centuries have passed to bring the face, your face, to the screen, beneath and after many faces that came and go, and will come after you. And the words may perhaps disappear, and all we have left is a dark room with pure silence - POP. so what if they disappear?
We'll be sure, to meet, whether with fire burning or with universal experience of forgetting in a room of judgement, we can be sure of a certain thing - totsicher/dead certain - that we won't go as far as to say we all die - because 'to die' is certainly not far away. That is the greatest and more profound distraction to life. Nothing else comes close. (and I loves it.)
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13 years ago
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