Regards. Rob
Blazoned across a purple and golden sky, the finest arrangement of celestial notifiers announce the limits of human endeavour, from east to west, right ascending and declining, to admit minds less incongruous than they.
The finished effect clings to
creation like a limpid to a sea mine, raising the possibility of no reordering
this side of black. We hope, but ultimately we yield to what we must accept in
a crimson dawn of irrelevance. All myths are self important and inept visions
of where we lie, never at the centre, always at the edge; reacting to reactors,
returning to dust and new light.
Livermorium in memoriam. Tennessine
in tension and terror. Lithium for lethargy. Arsenic for old lace. Carbon
cannot cancel the concerns of its own insistence on being the most abundant,
the centre of all things, despite its rarity and its irrationalisation. Sands
of time as sand in the dessert, unique and yet everywhere, rendering the very
fact of sand redundant. Out of empty quarter is abundance when factored against
the availability of dust.
We give it form. We offer it life.
Primrose patterns against a winter sky. Staring into the void for ever and
ever. Amyth. Minotaurs and unicorns like infinity and world weary infants. Potentiality
is not existence. Nothing goes on forever. Nothing ever really stops. Life
lived is life dreamt, a waking dream, sleepwalking through ages and eons, the
passage of past and present in geometric expansion into the ever changing
future. Even stones are not set in stone. Speak actively in the negative, or
passively in the affirmative. Yes. No. Jein.
Inexactitude is the way. Skirting the
shore of our ignorance. Dipping a toe in here or there. Languishing in
obscurity between the devil and the big yellow ball in the sky, zoning out all
endeavour modern, ancient, and to come.
God says you are important. The Universe
says you are not.
Misogyny says you are mono. Flags say
you think only for yourself.
I promise you disappointments say
your social media pronouncements.
I’ll never satisfy another say your blather
and your bluster.
My children will resent me say your twisty
tweeting obloquy.
Will you please engage, say your
anger and your rage.
I do not know, says everything that you
show.
Mummy didn’t pay enough attention. Or
daddy paid too much.
Indifference. Indifference. Thrice
indifference. Dotting an invisible i on an invisible i. Departing soon, but yet
to arrive. Farthings to your forebears and for your progeny, pence. Around,
around the circle of life, the circle of death. Into a frothing ocean and back
to the start. Circular yet sinusoidal. Consanguineously in the differentiated wheelhouse
of turning fortune. Be as the base unit. Digitally divide in bits of torrents.
Sing the song that is sung of soon. Paint the pic that punts to pain. Live the
life that lights its loins. Grasp the goal that ghosts the gust. Enjoy the
endeavour that enters extraneously, ex post facto et homo ex machina. Believe
the boast that boots bravado to blazes. Winnow the window that wields the
winch. Arrest all attempts at advocating amazement. Inevitably I inculcate innocence
in ineptitude. I will still remain immortal. And dark.
Dude, what happened to your podcast on Finnegans Wake? That was really interesting.
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