A blank page on which to
Take me, for example. I seem to have many theories on human suffering that curiously never apply to myself. I looked at the pictures and wished to be in them. Not as me, of course, because that would never do. I hate pictures. No, I don’t. I love pictures. As long as they don’t show me what I don’t want to see. Apparently, cameras suck the souls from their targets. I learned that at a very young age and I’m afraid it stuck. Or rather, it didn’t. That is, the soul didn’t. I don’t really know what the word means.
I want to say something I’ve never heard before, but I keep rehashing the same, tired old themes, it seems. I use too many commas, mostly.
A colon should never be followed by a dash:- Who would do that? And to what end?
Leafing through this moderately heavy, reddish-orange book, my head is full;- my thoughts muddled. I’ve always been passively rebellious (well, I used to be more active, but the years wore on). I’m not being purposefully morose - I’ve got: problems. With commas, with pronouns. With clarity. Thankfully none of that keeps me from communicating with you. I think. In some way.
Back to human suffering, though. I believe everyone suffers equally and everyone has a right to suffer. No burden is more / less heavy than any other. All mules have a back on which a ton is loaded and they must all make it to the: - wherever it is mules go to drop off their load.
So why should it be then, that I’d happily trade my load for yours? Why does another’s load seem so much more attractive? I go out of focus again when I think about it. It screams at something I’d rather not shine a light on.
I seek out avenues to feed my escapism, if not to fully escape. This, what I’m doing here, now, this is a way of not facing reality. Open a blank page on which to wander, turn the music up on high, light a cigarette, make a drink - immerse myself in imaginary worlds, worlds that, curiously, aren’t very imaginative.
And when I’m tired of that I’ll force myself to sleep for 10 hours or more if I can. The very first hint of awareness or consciousness is to be extinguished immediately and without question. Goodnight, curious.
* * *
Update: somewhere I have heard this before, in a dream my memory stored:-
10 August 2008 at 1:50 pm
That “I know it’s wrong so what should I do?” often comes back in my dreams. Or better, nightmares.
(And, a good picture – if ‘good’ means anything at all –, from my point of view, should show us what we do not want to see, or what we do not expect to see, or. Commas are always welcome, chez moi.)
11 August 2008 at 11:54 am
I am curious just how deliberate the punctuation was in paragraphs 3 and 4. You use a colon followed by a dash, a colon on its own, a dash on its own and a colon followed by a space and then a dash … or was that a typo? Whether or not it was deliberate I think it goes very well with what you’re writing about.
I like the way you digress and then snap back onto topic in this piece. Quite well done. I would’ve liked to have seen the camera make an appearance later on, just a cameo. (I suppose the ‘out of focus’ might be it). Or perhaps a final punch line: “Take a picture, why don’t you!”
BTW: watched the wee video:- that’s that young people music isn’t it?
12 August 2008 at 10:00 am
I like these derailed trains of thought you share. The mind changes that occur almost with every line. Its like you are practising your thoughts aloud. Sometimes your writing feels a bit too close to home, to the stuff that stays in my notebook, that doesn’t see the light of day.
12 August 2008 at 9:43 pm
Lore: I think I love you. Seriously though, it’s interesting you should say that because I wrote this post at night and in the morning I woke up with that song in my head. As I started remembering the lyrics I realised my thoughts weren’t original in the least, but rather broken remembrances from a broken youth and manic repeated listening that has clearly burrowed its way into my subconscious.
Jim: Everything, down to the very spacing was completely deliberate, my dear Mr Murdoch - but, no, I’m afraid the young people have rather moved on from this music in the last fifteen years. ;)
Jem: That’s funny to me, only because I don’t journal as such, but I do write bits and pieces that I am frankly embarrassed to post - how much closer to home (and what a home!) must those be.