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| Yes. More. by mrs. johnson 02/18/2003, 2:16am PST | ||||
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| Contributing to caltops, one broken reader at a time. Once again, all comments welcome. This is just a beginning.
Once in a great while there are Herculean abstractions in the minds of the greatest fools and geniuses. Those moments of pure restlessness are treasured like gems. The possessed mind looks around and sees some drastic object: a highway, a lamp, a face and lights up. Fires burn the previous obsession and awareness. New links are formed. New graves are dug up. Then, in just moments, it is gone. Down the rabbit hole after the trustworthy critics. Back to life. Back to the pipe. Each day is fear and excitement, waiting for the next candle to be lit. At best, there are days when the finalized pressure lands on the fragile heads. The necks snap instantly. The images of broken necked zombies taking their trains to work are constantly at the head. Not one knows their own death. Not one realizes that mortality is a disease. All rock into the fabulous afterlife and crack their crystalline smiles for the Great God Pan. He walks down the street. His feet scuff the salted ground and his pants catch on his heels. He doesn’t have a name. He had one five minutes ago, but it is gone now. He does not know where it has gone, but he yearns for its return. His libido sings with satisfaction. Recently, he has been visualized and that has given him life. Like so many gods. His age is lost as well, as are his truths. He is left to find new ones. Look, a rabbit in the bush. Yes. All rabbits live in bushes. Or do all bushes hold rabbits? He smiles listlessly and lets both these things be true. He allows them to exist in the world of man and so he molds the future. the mrs. |
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Yes. More. by 02/18/2003, 2:16am PST  Yeah, I finished it. by 02/18/2003, 3:18am PST Re: Yeah, I finished it. by 02/18/2003, 4:00am PST |
