Don't know what it is. But my mind seeks time. Some time and lots of books. Just books and time and patience. Books and coffee. Many reads and my mind. CONSUME. The way it's your fantasy to make love on a tabletop.. sweeping random objects off the surface with a single continuous thrust of the arm, before swiftly placing your lover on the counter and then go on, go on loving..
Roll back.. rewind and revisit the sweeping part in slow motion this once. Feel the strength of a man's arm, the relentless, the careless, the reckless gesture as things 'important' tumble down one after the other, slowly charging down against the weight of time and bursting into tumultuous fractures on the tiled floor... making a deafening (defining?) clatter - the clamour of the broken pieces and the din of all that breaks loose - hell as well as your own mind. Heedless of the mess, unmindful of the broken pieces of glass on the floor, blotched sheets of paper lying about - some crumpled some not, stationery, knickknacks strewn about. And on the mind just a blurred frenzy, a stupor in a spur.. a ruffled fazed uncomfortable delicious odyssey..
Wanna do that. Just that. Right now.
Wanna sweep off the tabletop all that claims its place there... all that impedes my flow.. and obstructs my path. To renounce everything and every thought that was so far the 'subject'. The path! As if the landscape is itself evolving. That everything else is a distraction, a disturbance, a speck in the eye.
That there's only one thing you're accursed to do. And that you must do. And what peace in such damnation!
Roll back.. rewind and revisit the sweeping part in slow motion this once. Feel the strength of a man's arm, the relentless, the careless, the reckless gesture as things 'important' tumble down one after the other, slowly charging down against the weight of time and bursting into tumultuous fractures on the tiled floor... making a deafening (defining?) clatter - the clamour of the broken pieces and the din of all that breaks loose - hell as well as your own mind. Heedless of the mess, unmindful of the broken pieces of glass on the floor, blotched sheets of paper lying about - some crumpled some not, stationery, knickknacks strewn about. And on the mind just a blurred frenzy, a stupor in a spur.. a ruffled fazed uncomfortable delicious odyssey..
Wanna do that. Just that. Right now.
Wanna sweep off the tabletop all that claims its place there... all that impedes my flow.. and obstructs my path. To renounce everything and every thought that was so far the 'subject'. The path! As if the landscape is itself evolving. That everything else is a distraction, a disturbance, a speck in the eye.
That there's only one thing you're accursed to do. And that you must do. And what peace in such damnation!
- Reposted from Nov 2011, London
