E=You and me 2

Now that we have calculated the distance between us

We have proof that it is not as wide as we thought

After our data has been collected and displayed

In scatter graph and pie chart

We can show evidence of coloration and similarity in the almost equal shares

Of the two coloured circle

And the dots that cluster around the straight line

Now that we have sized each other up, first by estimate

Then the inch, the centimetre and the micron

We finally have the measure of each other and can present the findings

 I already know that this will only highlight the flaws in the facts

 It will point out the odds hidden in the evens

And have us dividing ourselves

 By numbers that will always be prime

You will present with flipchart, use illustrations and pointing stick

I will scribble down half-finished thoughts

And mumble my way

Through self-conscious poetry

Good night and good luck...

Walking through the wet streets of a late night town.
From the doorway of a bar, the sound of  live music wraps itself around the spill of smokers who brave the drizzle to top up their chemical levels.
I'm only half conscious of where I'm headed but I know at the end of  this uncertain journey  is home.
I'm filled with the drink of several hours of slow celebration of a life changer.

I've ended one chapter of the story only to start  another one in a vaguely different place with vaguely different people. That's the outside of it. On the inside, I've broken away from something I needed to for a long time.

Others come and go and it can leave you feeling as if you're the pin in a massive wheel, only moving in a circle, always spinning and aware of how everything else around you changes while you remain routed on your allotted spot. Central to things, but nonetheless, static when compared to others and their ever changing lives.It is, of course a complete illusion. Sometimes it's just the movement that counts.

So, I make my way , unsteadily, to a place I know where transport to the comfort of my home awaits. If the happenings of earlier this morning are any gauge, I must have been quite unsteady.

It's funny, you never really think about the influence or impact you have on others until you're standing in a room with them looking at you and waiting for you to sum up your feelings on the last eleven years of your life. Conversely, you are suddenly aware of their effect on you. Things like that can't be summed up at all really. Every time I've thought about it, it comes out differently. In the end,it was stilted and clumsy with the added extra of  my true self being displayed in the tears that  really said how I felt about my final goodbyes.

It's all about people. Nothing will ever affect you like other people. It's dangerous to let them in but endlessly rewarding and affirming when you do, whatever the outcome and whatever the cost. If you build anything, build it on those around you, however you do it.

 On the outside,I've walk away from the past and I'm walking towards things I'm not even sure about in some respects. That doesn't even matter. Like I said, sometimes, it's just the moving that counts and the doors it opens.

 On the inside, I'm willingly taking a piece of my past on towards the new uncertainty.

It holds those I want to take with me..

Not having something to say and yet , still wanting to say something.
Having no opinion but still full of  thoughts on all things. Watching and waiting for something to happen.
The world turns again and we are somehow standing still and moving at the same time.
We don't seem to have learnt about some of the things we do but we continue nonetheless.

Giving prayers to the wrong gods, if any we have made for ourselves, could be the right ones. Not really looking at those around us and noticing the wear and heaviness they carry with them.
Basking in the glow of economic growth and still living cheap.
Fucking over the good things for the fleeting and hollow but still we laugh about how short this time is and how we mean to live it to the extremes. We are only here once we cry and we don't even know that.

Torn between two extremes , loathing and loving

and in the the middle,

my continued self eroding apathy 

Really ?

I hope the end of all of this doesn't come down to just good or bad.
I hope that the Universe has more imagination than that. To have experienced the entire spectrum of human conditions and then to have it summed up by one of two outcomes just seems rather flat, uninspired. Frankly disappointing.

Walking into the glorious sunset of the last evening, I began one of the countless conversations with myself.
It can't come down to just I'm good or I'm bad. Everlasting paradise or everlasting damnation. How is that anywhere near the deserved outcome of all this? How does straight lined thinking , in anyway, make the connection with the ultimate ending of this time in our  multifaceted world, our transient and evermoving existence in this supposed reality? How can that just be...it?
I can't except that a Universe so full of questions and possibles would have the face to put that forward as a solution to what can only be described as a missmash of  supposes , contradictions and  unknowns.
I'm plugging for the heart of star or the centre of a black hole myself. What's distance between you and your neighbour when you burn slowly for billions  of years? I could go for one of endless lives not yet lived or this one, with different chapters and outcome, anything other than heaven or hell.

I can more than handle the prospect of this never really ending. All things infinite and continuous, ever changing and evolving. Each one, whether lived before or new , offering  as of yet undiscovered  possibilities and experiences that we somehow, unknowingly , take with us  and develop as we travel through forever.

I don't want just good or bad. It does nothing for us, not as individuals or as community. We aren't that simple and neither is all this and to be expected to believe that that's what we've got coming because of what we do here and now is as small minded as some of the things we do with our time and energy while we're here.

Behave yourselves now...

People ask...

People ask,

"Why don't you write more"?

"Get it all down on the page, tip it all out".

I try to explain, give them an idea of what they're asking for,

I say “Imagine a house with the door locked, all you can do is look through the letterbox, what can you see”?

“Not much” they may well reply “Only the hallway with all its different doorways leading God knows where. What's that got to do with it"?"

“That’s the house in my head” I tell them “The one where I keep all the ideas I've got and I can't find the key..”