its impossible. i've been trying to write something meaningful for days. everything comes in fragments, not quite cohesive and showing slim evidence of any vital signs
days like these i drag the mind through mud, then hang out it to dry. still no thing. the keys clack clack but they're stiff with hard baked silt.
at best, ideas are fleeting, they are flashes caught from the corners of the eye...barely held, never contained.
©burgseye 2009
2 comments:
Time to go cut-up RE-Active Agent P. Gather up those shards and scraps, paste em' down on the page, re-order and re-construct them, like the ephemeral textures of the styreet you love. They will make sense, perhaps even too much sense...
Admission was enough to loosen the mind and drain the excess self seriousness. Ha ha ha. Just getting a feeling/frustration down will do that, and this time it was publicly. Actually it was HTP's tunnel pic that got me going -inwards! The light, the temple!
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