Poem: Sculpture By The Window
Subtle wind rift shakes golden fingers round soft warm glow
Whose glowing globes has shades point opposed
Upon my window its radiance exposed
People and roads and abodes
My mind -
A metal man on windowsill
Topples what has been left behind
To ravage and forge some thought sublime
Whose tightrope walk works the sole of Fulcrums heel
Observations: That Snow-globe Of Mine
My snow globe has a figurine within it
A girl with a rose whose gown flows in the ether
Where as Maria has the very same globe but with a mushroom in place of the girl
The mushrooms flowing gown with no-body around.
I am the one who gently joggles in the seasons.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Ways in which it is legitimate to be suspicious of communication. Theory is a counterforce to what is supposed to be true... spoken as true...
I ate terribly all day. '*' more than I care to remember… ate nothing, accept for a cheesy quesadilla in the afternoon and a snickers bar that was given to me after I finished a scientific study. That and 10 Euros wrapped around said snickers bar, like a ribbon. I bought me weeks’ groceries with said 10 Euros… spoke with some Germans who said that saying ‘me’ instead of ‘I’ is more meaningful in how one expresses ones ‘being’…in certain groups…England. Me think. I drink. I play. I phone. I sleep. Conversations always turn toward something that requires contemplation, something best addressed with a spirit for guidance, two or three maybe…Jack and Jim convinced me that the French have the tenacity and brazen conviction to muster a protest and yet monologue their reasonings…I will learn French next…I found myself in an ancient crater beside an old school yard after Jim and Jack did all that they could with me, it was 10.10.10, we decided to meet at 11.11.11, it’s funny how two wrongs make a night. If knowledge is power and power is might and might makes right then right gives me nothing but headaches and I have no more space for the bother. I bought four 500g bags of pasta for 1.20€ and four 1L boxes of milk for 2€ not to mention the kilogram of potatoes, rice, and onions to give a good footing for my next weeks upward scramble…eggs…I bought them too…all with the money that came from a University sociological survey. I do that too. But the ‘how’ of perpetual improvement concerns me very little. Some of my best friends are scientist I have found because we share a similar inspiration but are fated for a profoundly different odyssey. ‘Time’ and what comes with the cuffs of age has jostled my being, but not to the core because there isn’t one…I hate labels more and more these days and I recognize the sentiments my words evoke. A physicist stormed off from me just an hour ago because I wouldn’t be pigeon holed between two words, discovering or creating, for how one labels the human condition. We are all tools to the biggest tool of our own creation…Reason…Justification…as I sober up I know I shouldn’t even be on this damn blog bloging. Slavoj Zizek.