the grassiness of death Nov 18, 2011

There is a wound that's always bleeding.
There is a road I'm always walking.
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Blank. Blank. Blank.
What does it mean when a child shakes a rattle?
Out of context and inside the skull, where the links
run on for years, and the punction ah punctuation is carefully manicured;
Don't capitulize your sentences or is, to take me to seriously,
traveller, welcome to purpleLand, traveller.
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You looked in a mirror and saw yourself, not the mirror! Egoist!
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Something happens. Glass
becomes sand, a lightning~~
strike in reverse. Fragile~~~~~
ideas are replaced with sand~~~~~~~~~~~
castles, designed for the sea.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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<raincomplex>
As easy as when you stop wanting.
There once was a glass sculptor.
She failed in the eyes of others, so she dest-
oryed her work. And then something happened.
Glass became sand, a lightning strike in reverse.
She built sandcastles, and drowned in the sea.
Everything I've written is obsolete she cried.
The river is different and I can't put my finger on it.
(~~~the surface of the river~~~)
To be integrated to the point of invisibility---who came up with our words?
There have only been a finite number of people since the beginning of people. Probably.
It's better to fade out than it is to burn.
By morning I will have erased all traces that I was ever here.
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The futility of repetition. /chatteroff
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Just jump in the cold water,
reconcile yr current self with yr past
'your problem is you aren\'t writing enough'
'your problem is you spend too much time thinking'
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throw a thousand pots to get yourself started,
to drive out the clinging, to give it time to soak
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I am gone. I am nowhere. I am obsolete.
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(a child plays with a rubber toy car,
as it drives past houses ablaze,
their windoweyes pleading save us SAVE US BUMPY)
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!!!!They thought love was the Ansswer and They Were Wrong;They Were ALLways Wrong
!!!!The ancients had No IdEA what Rigght iS [No Use Climbing Shoulders , I Can See FiNE|;
!!!!They wanted to R*m*mb*r,to S*v* Things(injars, scraps.of.paper, any old thing)
!!!!to Treasure Things F*r*v*r
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<███████>
█ ████ ███ █ █████ █████ ██ ███████ ███ ██ ███ ██ ███████.are we
█ ████████ █ ███ ██ ██ ████ ████ █ ██████ ███ █████.unhappy
██ ████ ███████ █ ██████ █████ ███because
█████ ███ ██████████ ██████ ████ ████ ███████ ███ ███████ ███████████.our
███ █████ ███ ██████ ██ ████████ ██ ████████ ███████████.challenges
█ ████ ███ ██ ███ ██████ ██████ ██████████ ██████████have been
███████ ███████████ ████████████ ██ ████ ████ ██ ███████.solved
██████ ████ ██████ ████ █████ ██ █████ █████████for us
███ ███ ████ ██ ██ ████ ███ ████ ████ ███ ████ ██ █████ ██████ ████ ██ ███.and yet
██████ ███ ████████ █████████ ███████ ████ ██ ██ ████.we die?
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!!!!we Know We MUST for-get , atttacheMent Being The CaUse OFALL SuffeRiNG;
!!!!we Must Change TO SurVive; Things ARe New &nd Better noW; the Old WAyss ARe Dead !!
!!!!Bloodied, The old Wayss reTreat!!!!weNailed Them TO The Wall;
!!!!The RevoluTiON Came AND Went &;nd NoBody NoTiCED;aLong With LOVE;
!!!!LOVE IS A DiSEASE
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<raincomplex>
It seems we are approaching either an asymptote or a limitless sky.
<███████████>
We should all start in test tubes and grow on sterile collagen matrices.
Our socialization should be fully automated
and involve productive activities from the earliest stages.
Optimally efficient cogs in the wheel of society.
<raincomplex>
Fix your depression: make yourself unhappy.
Or better: remove the infrastructure which
supports your existential malaise.
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To be integrated to the point of invisibility---
who thought of the word "stone"?---
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Spider, spider, spinning fright,
jerking weaver in the night,
what captured dreams loom in your web,
blown in by wind's cool flow and ebb?
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<raincomplex>
She built sandcastles, and drowned in the sea.
She died in 1805. I ran into her on the beach.
I was jogging at night, under the helicopters,
and she was puzzled at the scale of it all.
She turned and her eyes were all fear.
It was night and the sandcastles were washed away,
except the one we had built that afternoon.
Only a vague set of lumps remained.
In a moment of confusion, I look again at the sea:
the billions of tiny waves, and the light
reflecting off the peaks in an unfathomable dancing chorus,
a roar of water and rush of scale
that sent me reeling into a fit of vertigo.
I have not recovered since.
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Often, walking on the road in a cool evening breeze,
I think of that night on the shore,
and the memory of my words to her is a sharp pain I cannot soothe---
my own ego a blemish unto itself which I cannot escape.
The only things worth remembering are the helicopters
and her eyes and the fear in them and the ocean.
Because she had died in 1805 and she knew it, and the ocean knew nothing.
The lighthouse swept the beach and in a moment of confusion,
I looked again at the sea: it was a great noise and a cold salt mist,
and the air was warm. And I was alone, and the helicopters passed overhead,
and only a vague set of lumps remained,
and I knew what she meant
when she said by morning
I will have erased all traces
that I was ever here.
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I am ashamed it took me so long to understand.
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♪♫ because death is just so full,
and man so small ♫♪
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!!!!we Live aLone , we LiVE ToGeTHeR; We Made CommMUNiSM WORK;
!!!! Y*sT*rD*y Is A CurseWord;I Guess LOVe iS STiLL DiRTY thEse Days
!!!!we Have Burned All YoUR Art and RePlaced it [There JuST WASN T ' ANY RooM FoR iT|
!!!!With MeChanicalConsciousNess;ExpERiENCEs YouR MiNDS only HAlf conCeived;
!!!!We HAvE AboLishEd AestheTics;&ND RePLACeD iT WiTH HeDONiSM
!!!!We FiGUReD OUT whY dOlphIns PLaY , BuT ALL ThAt s ' LeFT OF THeM iS BRAINTiSSUe
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<███████████>
Bring back the mental and physical rites of passage.
Weed out the frail and broken.
<misterfuffie>
Or don't put the majority of Western
peoples into a wholly artificial and
unnatural cycle of existence. The 9-5,
fluorescent lightning workday and late-
night existence is murder on the biorhythm.
Now, I'm not advocating that sunshine
will cure mental illness - just observing
that the states of wakefulness that most
Westerners force themselves into is totally unnatural.
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<████████████>
I feel good about myself after today. Well, yesterday, now.
Also rather sore. 35lb rucksacks are something you should ease into.
<███████████>
Yeah, we need to get back in touch with Earth Mother and the Great Sky Spirit.
Hang for a day or so with meat hooks through our pecs.
<████████████>
eh, not fond of meathooks
<███████████>
Wimp.
You wouldn't make the cut.
<████████████>
If you're cutting with meathooks you're doing it wrong
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!!!!wE StIll can Not UnderStand YOuR Love OF trees ?
!!!!ALLGoNE , &ND NoBODy MiSSES THem
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‌

the grassiness of death

links to:
- context collapse
- where to go for help with punctuation
- why it is so hard to be yourself
- you, radiating out among the crush of people

linked from:
- make a wish
- vigil for the king of mortification
- wear your helmet
- Where does the song go when the needle is lifted?

all writing, chronological
next: like a diamond in the sky
previous: Never fear, Anastasia