It's one of those days.
It's bleached almost; dry and very wispy. There's this drone in the background and a general sense of everything being a bit too bright.
I haven't written here or anywhere in awhile. I feel a sense of pent-up loss. Like I missed out on something.
There's a half filled stopped up bottle of water. That's all I drink / eat while I'm work. It's Ramadan; I'm giving lent an early practice. Mini. Shmaalll.
Funny thing is that I'm supposed to be going out to get a drink with people from work tonight. The chances of a 'Seville Row' (only two favs and SA waiter knows about this!) CANNOT happen. Absolutely fudging NOT.
Wow. THAT was some NIGHT. When they're few and far between the memories are seared. Like the grease from a steak on the grill.
Anyway. (Yeah, I'm changing the subject!)
I wonder what it feels like when you take steps that legitimises something that only holds meaning to your life alone. You know when you have to sign, stamp and legally do things to validate what really isn't anyone else's business.
Funny how our race operates. It's a mystery, all these rules with no beginning (or end!).
I'm picking up the rings at the end of the week methinks. Got 'em all shined and polished. Even ordered inscriptions. Pretty chuffed, in a very socially conditioned way.
No really! You should try it. It's fun. Feel a socially conditioned 'once-in-a lifetime' blimp in your emotional space. It's a one time thing (even if its conditioned).
You won't feel it after. It's that rare glimpse of a comet that won't pass you by again. Ever.
Well, in this lifetime anyway.
Anyway.
She says I'm not here. She's good.
Am I that bloody transparent? Do I not know the art of 'masquerade' well? I thought I had it pat. I feel empty.
We are the hollow men. The stuffed men.
That kind of empty. Even though I consciously walk in the moment, I feel as if the knowledge I now have has only further peeled back the veil that hides my emptiness.
WTF??!
I'm not thinking of the future. I ain't thinking of the past. I just experienced a 'now' blimp. So then WTF??!
8 gas tankers.
Seagulls noshing between oil wells.
More drone.
Sand, debris and bricks.
Dusty cars.
Dusty trees.
DRONE.
Golden waves. Black Asphalt.
Glinting mirrors. Worthless tarpaulin.
Empty parking spaces.
Empty.
2 comments:
Beauatiful!...you are a real POET!...i love your poems!thank you!...
and for you...
"love is the one who masters all things."
Mawlãnã Rumi
Thanks Mawlana; nice of you to stop by. Cheers! Love does master all things. Too true. Too true.
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