Wednesday, January 10, 2018

The serenity of nothingness

There, across the barricades, the iron fist of Tory policy made flesh has made life near impossible but somehow we carry on. The heretics and the idealists, no names, no footprints. Now that the guns have been silenced for the time being we can all walk backwards across the wilderness of thought to a place where nothingness reigns, where the past is but a backdrop and the future, despite it's close proximity cannot be perceived. Ambient music is played on invisible instruments, sounds like a looped elephant chorus pour down, animal chirps emerge from holes in the ground and clouds of bass tones float across a frog spawn sky, reverberating. I can tap my feet to this one at least.

The urban sprawl once had a name, not anymore. Twisted bicycle frames are padlocked to lamp post stumps, just like they used to be but more so. We have conversations but they are largely unintelligible, there is talk of forgiveness and we have reached that place where we  forget about forgetfulness. It was foretold. Voices seem to have added vibrato rendering then unintelligible but that does not stop the chatter. 

I'm likely to pause for tea at any time, just for the hell of it. I take it straight. Others travel more lightly, minus the necessary apparatus. We could share materials but that has a primitive edge to it we all wish to avoid. Soon the time will be up, the masks will slip and a type of low level war will commence. This is nothing to do with us, it's a social media construct designed to keep the greater populace amused. Conflict and argument are popular activities I believe. There is a view that this sort of thing tends to get us somewhere, I'm not so sure. The government sponsors all the hurly-burly and madness, there is a clandestine department hidden under Putney Bridge dealing with disruptions and diversions but I take no notice of conspiracy theories, they are just that. As ever I blame the Stilton, a good dose and the world is a seedier, sleepier, happy kind of wobbly place. Of course it may just be the strange effects of the oatcakes I regularly take.

No comments:

Post a Comment