Saturday, July 11, 2009

She's a BOOK

It was a good place for people watching. Only, once he had given his eyes the reign, he forgot himself entirely. It would be a good place to be if it could be a place that unfurled into perpetuity: but that never happened. No, his mind would take back control, and an evil comeuppance would take place. As if to say. As if it were to say, flexing extremities in a show of dominance. But that is two things. It would flex and say, "Look who is back in control now!" (curving toes, tightening sphincter, arching spine and heaving chest - way back now; arching parallel to the earth's surface and robbing the eyes of their power completely). Or, instead of looking at who is in control wouldn't really be necessary, declaiming it so, having directed the eyes to look into the sun: "So, while the cat's away, the mice will play!" - or some other folkish aphorism pregnant with judgment and disapproval. But that is the mind. It is always framing its pulsations in a manner that assumes everything else has a mind; deep down it knows this is not the case and it only acts in this way to please itself.

It was a good place to watch people, but it became grist for comparisons, self-evaluation, and the imagined interpretation of a relationship of the self - only known imperfectly - against an overwhelming whole that returned his gaze in circus mirrors and imported artifacts.

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