:: blame the extended gestation.... ::

:: Sunday, April 28, 2002 ::

Done been gone for a while

"phosphorus glowbugs in the night sky crazy german guy discovered that
element...
never cleaned out his bathtub...
sulphur, brimstone, oh and chlorinated water syterms,
aw, you all just wanted to be argon with his magic chalck, yo ne?
but where do we draw from here?
it's so noble, this neeling painful sorrow
but baby, that bow, and we take a deep breath, and dive off the stage
again,
my friend, and again and aga8n and agian and again.........." -Tonja H.

I take things. These itty bitty moments--picture the sky as small and then wonder what big is--moments. I take them one by one. And capture them in thought, phrase, image. Repition is God, God is Repition. 180 pages of qoutes.... I know I know stop passing on what others are saying and say it. Say that thing thats on the tip of your tongue. Say it and stop trying to make others see you through others. Its not my fault. I grew up in this prison of you's not wanting to hear me. And me's not wanting to work the magic, take the time, to bend the sculpture into something you could finally see. Something that was finally understanding. A close call at actually taking that little part of me that flashes past/just now/and just now/now/now... and moving somewhere to within you. THe you. You. Other side of the Universe from where i'm standing... cause you don't break that silence of never reaching the insides of the other's I. My I is not your I. Or is it... could it be...thats what i'm trying. That second just a second where it works out. You've seen it before. Its how I know its so near to possible. In a laugh. In a smile. Its not a definite. Not an answer. But christ if you don't get it by now that i'm done with answers. I'm on the other side reasons, back over on the unreason. They say our mysterys are something special. SOmething unique and all our own. But its lonely to every few years...stop... look down and see all the madman steps you've taken...and just laugh. Brillant to know that the walls you've built. The images you love. The catch-phrase redundant repitition is where you find it. Thats why I like them, Quotes... or Qoutes... or Qoui... they bend. They break. Misused and abused. they mean only what you bring to them. They fold into tight little pretty corners. They burn so bright you can see for miles again... and so seldom do we ever want to see for miles anymore. I like it... I miss it... its what I do try so hard to do.... See for miles again.

:: Jim Nichols 4/28/2002 12:00:00 AM [+] ::
...