Monday, October 27, 2003
Who's that sitting there looking all unimportant. I hate to distract one away from the things they have to do . . . but excuse me . . . excuse me please . . . just for a second while I shoot this flare in the trash can. Take the planet for instance. Well done my good and faithful mistake. Oh wait did that come out wrong excuse me. I divide the flesh and spirit because Descartes defines his universe by thinking. I know that there has to be more. Replace my innocence with a factory of images that are destroying my heart systematically. Rebirth. Go back to what you used. Go back to what used to. In the past tense tension reigned and I closed my eyes hoping that it would all relieve itself. Won't you just leave me alone. Alone without a clock. Alone without a future. I'm sorry for interrupting this disappointment. Paraphrase the captions and stutter like a deaf man afraid of public speaking. The means of communication are limited because I don't even know what I'm saying. The means. The means. Always the means. Minutes ago we were only concerned with outcomes. Without coming to anywhere. Scrapping the bottom of the barrel to believe in the nothing that is around me. All around. Excuse me did you get that. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .