Ceramic bowl sits stationary with an absence of grapes. Grapes that are no more, and probably busy reincarnating amidst the nocturnal contents of my bowel. Change is constant, but then - what is constant? Something that is fixed, unchanged? A strange paradoxical comment that. So often offered as an unquestioned morsel of profundity during 3am conversations. It's true of course, any statement with the audacity to capture the ambiguous duality of things lies closer to the asymptote of truth than the dirty progeny of reason. Speaking of which, i haven't had one of those for a long while... 3am conversations.
Gladys is dead.
I'm not.
A near death experience keeps one honest. A blessing. Life is (potentially) short. So a fraudulent existence bathed in delusions of longevity, security, predictability and plethora of should-be is the antithesis of the way it can be and will be.
Will sleep now. Pause it all biologically for a wee while, until the eruption of possibility that tomorrow brings wake me up. It's gonna be fucking awesome.
2 comments:
i like this post. i'd like to hear more about your near-death experience. i'm flying home tonight. maybe we can skype later this week?
have safe trip... not on skype of late as i'm back to keeping normal hours with my work i.e. my days = your nights etc... might catcha randomly sometime somewhere in the limbo in between... take care.
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