Little things16 Jun 2006
They show what is falling apart, what’s falling to pieces, disintegrating. There’s hardly anything new about a lack of balance, really. Always in absolutes. Well, maybe not. It used to be that way until… everything seems grey, now. [I need a new word for] mediocre. A vocabulary distinguished by mediocracy? Yes, even that jaded front is recognised, now. And if that is indicative of the best, of what one is prepared to put on display, what hope is there for everything beneath that? They see through, one by one. Some distance themselves; others, proceeding with caution, ready to detach themselves at any moment. Still others have not paused long enough to note it’s extrinsic failings, and travel onwards blindly.
Always asking too many questions. Moving on somewhere, restless, never content to stop even for a moment and enjoy everything that’s been given. Not that the alternative is blind submission out of recreancy; just to trust, a little, to take stock and realise that there is so much here already. Why the nomadism? It is anti-acquisitive, but to say that is to suggest things are left behind… this fails to account for acquisition by destruction. There is a burning pattern denoting a path, the fire spreading further away at the edges. Reversing may, strangely, have the opposite effect; quenching the fire as though by back-burning. Exhausted of fuel, it will (perhaps) find comfort amongst the ashes. Life, again, may even spring forth. Parthenogenesis triggered by heat? Ah, a flawed concept. Why would life return to that land?
It may. Once the carcinogenic effusion subsides, moving off into the distance, recovery might commence. But that burning one will never rest (or observe this, far beyond its wake), moving forever onwards [until a vast body of water that quenches its very being and ends the path of destruction that spread towards the sea]. It would not do to end on a question.