last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2003-05-06 - 10:55 a.m.: riverwaste

i think sometimes our most beautiful ideas start as irritating little chips of discontent. granules of sand in oyster minds that can't be gotten rid of, so are lubricated and decorated to help them pass for treasures that deserve the permanence they've already won. we fool ourselves constantly. poetry helps. it tricks us into thinking that our frustration makes us beautiful. we fall for it every time.

we fall in love with anything that causes light to scatter.

yesterday it rained in the most gorgeous style... huge globes of liquid pelting down with hood-denting intensity beneath a bright, white-yellow sun, light diffused through thinning puffs of cloud to make wide-arching double-decker rainbow. it lasted only a few minutes, but left every blade of grass and building looking freshly-scrubbed, like new. i want that to happen all over the world, at the same time. let's do it.

ever since i got new contacts i've been seeing the world with just a little more intensity. everything looks hungry. i sat down by the river a few days ago with des and we talked and smoked and watched eddies form and float away... and it seemed like the air was full of something. the furiously moving and spinning molecules that we tend to take for granted seemed a little more eager to be acknowledged, dust and ash caught up in swirls and disturbances we couldn't see. there was a hum coming from all over. crackles from dead things and whispers from leaves. i kept feeling the strands of spider webs brushing against my cheeks and arms, but it was just my own hair, trying to escape. i need more days like that. i need more quietly full spaces. i need time to hear the hum underneath the silence.

sitting in this machine-infested office with nothing pressing me, i *ache* for it.

i want to be plugged into something i don't understand (but should) and learn the hard way. i want to yell "enough of this play money and fake property and red plastic houses and rolling dice to get ahead in a race with no finish line. i forfeit."

if i was just a little more powerful, i'd stand up and flip the whole board over. heh.

it's just hard to know where the game ends and real life begins, you know? it seems so continuously disjointed. maybe look for the spaces in between, slip through a crack. i don't know where else to go.