21 january 2021
distant euros and i wail
i've managed to write a little today.
this is a draft, a work in progress, I just wanted to post something before the night matured.
I've had to delve
Always deeper, coursing through
Years, millenia, aeons, eras geological
Physically immaterial, past
Gazing as my sentiments deposed
As sediments, as thin lines
And bands and banners on the face of a cliff
I'm the reverse alpinist, the spelunker
Gazing down into the abyss
And watching her look back
Seeking out answers, petrified, as fossils,
Thin lines of ash tracing that which killed Eris
And Eros, the cataclysm, vanquishing Euros and Eos
Setting them all to rest
My mass extinction event, my little ice age,
Six (hundred) (thousand) (million) years have passed
Over my calcified memories surfacing slowly
Floating weightless, lighter than my twenty grams of soul
Passing above me-for I am caught by quicksands,
The cliff bringing me to my knees, and torso, and eyes,
Turning me to sand, to a thin line of blood-red rust
Marking my little dark age on the cliffs of those who will follow
nowadays i am sane in a minimal liminal space only, the kinda space that you find in a leap second or in-between ancient blocks of marble
tomorrow i'll talk about this thing that's bugging me, this sense of manipulating people and my elusive understanding of the solipsistic philosophical standpoint that is growing in me and that may be the end of me. stay tuned folks.
by the way, for the folks who are concerned about satsu-san: they are growing steadily, beautiful leaves with visible bordeaux nervures. stunning, full of vitality. when it grows sturdier i'll plant it in soil.