Months are predicted on the days, and the days define the year. What will I remember this year being about?
Stagnation, redefinition, lunging towards and away from dolour...that heartbreaking sorrow, cultivated by the relationship that I need to release.
So far and farther...
Confabulation. Not my style.
Substance, conversation.
It's about understanding...
Talking 'small talk'?
Quirky and vague. I cannot prattle.
Fabricate a memory? Too much work.
Trust. Trust? Dubiety is gone. I no longer have any doubt.
I need a new horizon, fresh stories, suprising escapades, amazing reverie, wonderful opportunies for mysterious and joyful, expansive dimensions...
Showing posts with label Change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Change. Show all posts
Sunday, May 11, 2008
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?
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?
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