return, enter

a restart of sorts: hours of cabling workmen, technical support, forced tears, restricted malice, ipconfig commands, microsoft networking solutions, have disk, compact flash error detected.

a restart of sorts: come and fix the windows and i still have work to do. fine. this one? that one. nine times out of ten that’s [pointing] the problem. well, is it? no, not really.

a restart of sorts: the information in this pack is correct at the time of going to press, but xxxxxx reserves the right to make subsequent changes to it and services may be modified, supplemented or withdrawn. this is a legally binding contract.

a restart of sorts: back to the feeling that i don’t exist, startled by mirrors and a distance between mind, emotional presence and social character. this is apparition. i am ghost. i feel spirit. my bed is still unmade.


blank page, no resistance. just more complexities without rhythm, blue skies above me, the weather in this sunny summer keeps turning on me, i am back in line at last. the horoscopes are as they should be.

the depth of field continues, creating patterns live/s. previously no means to express but now, glowing in a positive rejection of institutionalised creativity (and reeling from perpetual failed relationship) there is at last a feeling of full space.

there must be someone near. there is no one near.

surround myself with creativity, disregard blistered thoughts of obligation-fucking-obligation, dislocation, time spent, dust in throat and eyes, i remain remote, fluid and without emotive stance.

there is no catchment area for how i feel. the tradition is the platform. i cannot compete with your love for the world.

(sorry, it has been a while.)


One Response to “return, enter”

  1. Your candor and sincerity is endearing.

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