It’s funny when thoughts vanish just as you put the pen to paper. Or, as is more appropriate in these online times, as you put your fingers on the keyboard. It’s like picking up a furiously ringing phone only to hear a bleak dial tone as you make vain attempts to elicit some other response by repeatedly shouting Hello into it (and then looking at the receiver as if a ghost got the better of it).
Or when you switch on the TV to find a blank, blue screen (Although with all the crap that they show, perhaps the b. blue screen has its own use). Remember “Tom… No Answer”? (Brush up on your Mark Twain if you hadn’t done so in a while). That’s what it’s like. Like somebody putting a glass wall just before the waves hit the rocks, leaving them literally high and dry. A gush of feelings, ideas, emotions, like criss-cross shadows struggling to share the spot-light, not knowing that shadows don’t survive spot-lights…
Like a bunch of five year olds learning to play football, the aim being just to hit the ball somehow, the goal would take care of itself. Like me writing all this without any goal in mind. Only the shadows of those kids, like multi-colored laser lights at once blinding you, and leaving you in the dark simultaneously.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Sunday afternoon
There are perhaps countless ways to spend it.
There are quite a few who use it to catch up on lost sleep during the week. On the other hand are those who sleep nevertheless, albeit to hoard a little bit for the coming week.
Some love to eat their heart out on a Sunday afternoon, others choose this day to refrain from eating, for the sake of their heart.
Some listen to loud music, others use this time to remember foregone shades of tranquility by abstaining from any external sources of sound.
Some go online to relive their virtual lives and “catch up” with all the action they’ve been missing, while others unplug themselves from all those bits and bytes that bite into their usual waking life.
In short, Sunday afternoon is perhaps the time when in time and space, you can observe the maximum number of contradictions (at least on Mother Earth, ain’t too sure about the other Mothers…)
Matter of fact, out of all those innumerable ways to spend a Sunday afternoon, chronicling the arbitrary possibilities in your blog is also not such a bad idea perhaps?
There are quite a few who use it to catch up on lost sleep during the week. On the other hand are those who sleep nevertheless, albeit to hoard a little bit for the coming week.
Some love to eat their heart out on a Sunday afternoon, others choose this day to refrain from eating, for the sake of their heart.
Some listen to loud music, others use this time to remember foregone shades of tranquility by abstaining from any external sources of sound.
Some go online to relive their virtual lives and “catch up” with all the action they’ve been missing, while others unplug themselves from all those bits and bytes that bite into their usual waking life.
In short, Sunday afternoon is perhaps the time when in time and space, you can observe the maximum number of contradictions (at least on Mother Earth, ain’t too sure about the other Mothers…)
Matter of fact, out of all those innumerable ways to spend a Sunday afternoon, chronicling the arbitrary possibilities in your blog is also not such a bad idea perhaps?
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