::imaginative introspection::

Imagine that all life is an illusion. All that exists is this moment. No past, no future, each memory, every plan, a part of the illusion. Life, in a photograph.

Do you like the image of yourself?

Friday, December 17, 2010


Insomnia, Again. 
goddamn brain.
This Mind, The One That Refuses To Rest,
Images, Theories, Ideas—All Swirling Through This Overactive Consciousness 

Meanwhile, The Earth
it Spins
And Without The Sun This Mind Becomes A Vacuum
Where All Thought Is Instantly Ubiquitous, Yet Nihilistic.  
Each Point Both Brilliant And Banal. 

Imagine that all life is an illusion.  All that exists is this moment.  No past, no future, each memory, every plan, a part of the illusion.  Life, in a photograph. 

Do you like the image of yourself? 

 the picture was of me with you, sitting at the bar, late. 
deep in discussion of, in fact, each other’s distinct, separate, individual existence.
me, hoping the gin might give me some liquid courage to tell you, somehow. 

you argue that all that exists is right now.  and everything else is an illusion. 
not happy with the image I see I force it to change and right now becomes me, kissing you, and the world melts away and truly, it is all that exists.  for a moment.
you, surprised.
me, I didn’t like the picture.
if only I had the nerve to change

nonsense.  but maybe that’s what love is. 
but this. 
this one way love. 
You know, the one that I’ve been ok with for so very, very, long. 
its still ok. 
I love you, you don’t see it, its our thing.

Love isn’t unconditional.   Not usually.  But you—you could shatter this heart and I’d still give you a chunk of my liver when you end up needing it. (Which, you will.)  Hell, I’ll throw in a kidney too.  And do it with a smile on my face.  Maybe I’m deranged.  You know very well how I feel.  And you are kind enough to not take advantage of it—despite me.  And that, goddamn it, just makes me fall a little farther down this endless fucking rabbit hole.  I almost wish I’d go insane and that’d be the end of it.  So long as I didn’t understand I was insane.   

and here I am staring at the wall at four in the morning.  can’t sleep again. 
would really be nice if my mind would just power down at the end of the day. 

Maybe I am insane.  I’m not unhappy.  I’m quite pleased with life so far, actually.  But the one thing, the only thing that’s wrong with the picture of my existence is WHERE YOU ARE STANDING.  

and well, that’s something I can’t force to change. 

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