Sunday, July 06, 2003

Sunday Fissure

Weak week. Weal, waddle, wane. Sun slips into a crafted abyss and tickles memories wished to be dissipated. Dreams of past moments to be rekindled into nightmares. Sifting quietly into nuances of structure. Form still unknown.

WHAT DO I WANT? A question harder than granite. Soapstone ideals rest reluctantly on posed problem solving soliloquies.

Waves of known possibilities safely guarded by the passing moments, but time is a trickster. Acting, involving oneself in new ventures is the only way to live.

Living is limestone, buttery soft to the point; it acknowledges gently, revealing great and universal truths. What act will spin into adventure, resolving, solving and solidifying the stagnation into amoebic life, eventually evolving into satisfaction of living?

Spin a bottle, flip a coin, pick a card - there is no easy way to know what is best, especially when the beginning is vague. Get a job, take a course, find a new horizon. Platitudes of grace.

Begin with a colour. Orange is action and speed. Green is contemplation. Gold, organization. Blue feels and holds empathy, often strangling strategy. I need to resurrect my Orange tendencies as Blue is a hindrance to change.

I like action, but speed is not my forte. I like to think and incise, but dislike the organization that inevitably is associated with the outcome of research. I don't want to wallow in the piteous self-riotousness which restrains action.

This is nowhere and somewhere. Where is the event that will develop a path? ... A stone's through away... and where is the stone?