Round the outside of the circle. Won't you join me?
Sunday, Mar. 16, 2003 - 9:58 a.m.
Oh I am so tempted to delete. Not my diary. Not my notes. Not my gb. Just random (to others) sentences found around.
There, writing about doing it is a substitute just like the teacher that takes over for the teacher.
It is not like I am actually quoting the words that have been heard. If only one of my entries in here was total fiction, which one would it be?
If only one word was fictional, what word would it be replacing?
If I did not ask so many questions here would they be stuck in my head or is this just a substitute head?
If I wrote more clearly the view would be unobstructed.
So which is the more enticing? Complete nudity, or the hint of a sight that leaves me wondering if I really saw what I thought I saw.
If freedom of information is a valid concept, what is the price of ignorance?
Am I coming into focus now?
Do the words here make more sense some how?
If the words that had no meaning were removed would there be more than seven left? Or is that just a little more specific than it needs to be?
"Here we go again" he repeated. The sentiments were echo'ed over and over til they faded into dim memories of deja vu.
I wanted to write all these things in my other. I just did not know it at the time.
Then once I knew, I had two choices to make that happen. Maybe more, who has the time to decide. I could just copy and paste. I could let this one erase.
Then would I delete that which never was. Or merely arrest it in an earlier stage of developement. Most matter can exist in more than one state. You know (being not so hidden) solid, liquid, gas.
Thoughts are not matter. What states can they exist in? If they are abstract then what about words? And just how much does a thought exist without words?
When I look at the street, I see the snow is melting. I see it turn from a solid to a liquid to a gas. Or do I? Do I maybe only see the results of it? The evidence left behind that suggests it.
And the words. Yes, the words. What do I see when I look at them here? Do I see them, or do I just see the thoughts they represent?
Maybe the only thing left is the evidence of thought that's left behind.
Looking closer, at the water that runs down the curb and into the earth, all of the things carried along with it muddy it, and make it less clear.
But when I stand back and view it from a distance without the focus of a close up, when the sharpness of the details is removed from view, that is when I see the true beauty of the scene.
How much focus should I put on my words? How much beauty do I want them to have? How muddy do I want them to be?
My thoughts melt like snow that turns to water. The stream of my consciousness turns to vapor. The vapor of my memories returns from where they were born.
previous - next
Indy - Friday, Dec. 11, 2009
ain't that a bitch - Tuesday, Apr. 07, 2009
Did I say Lapse of time? - Saturday, Feb. 21, 2009
Looks like Saskatchewan to me - Tuesday, Nov. 18, 2008
- - Monday, Nov. 17, 2008