Is this me going away, farther into the full emptiness? Farther away from windowed edifices, re-barred pillars, and framed sidewalks. Not in a repulsed, cynical state, but a detachment into a space, an awayness, into remote places that enables me to escape. The urge is too great; I am captured by the swill of the hot, empty air seeping through my pores and down my parched gullet.
Time is warped. The horizons look the same: the outline of the black ranges, the same smeltering azureous blue sky, the same translucent mirage. My vision is distorted by my dripping brow. The salt stings my eyes. I cannot blink, the same is ahead of me, up there out yonder, my awayness is whirling up in a gritty wind tunnel. Time becomes instransigent. There is no end for me; I want to go farther away.
My worn, ragged shoes give me a topical, skin-prick perception of time. I know time has elapsed because my shoes signify so. The miles I've walked tick away time; I know how long, how far, and what time it is by the wear on my shoes. But only after immersing my self, succumbing to the red rock desert and island ranges surrounding me, can a deft perception from deep down within sense the seasons in change, the migration of the fauna, and time raging forth. If not, then it is just a dream. And my awayness is abolished.
How precious the subtleties...
...of mashing. I refuse to live life not fully committed to acting out my dreams. In an act of defiance I wage war on emotion, on self-staged histrionics, and the embellished ego to pursue and perservere to the actual existence of ideas and dreams. No more dreamy talk and fluttery words, I am all in. I mean what I say. You'll see, through my actions, sometimes through sheer stubborness, I will make what I dream come true. This is a proclamation of an end to babble.
I want more than I can ever write about, more than I can ever express to you, more than I can ever experience. Taste see feel, pulsing with adventure---my blood boils.
The Vagabond Loop is the next flame to tickle the underside of my palm of life...
Hear Hear to the end of babble!ReplyDelete
Right on Webster!Delete