Wednesday, November 22, 2006
being dead is easy
It's not so hard to imagine you're already dead and it gives you great leeway in projecting yourself through the enveloped world of transient gleamings. You see what's wrong, and you persecute it, chasing it near and far, and you come out ahead every time. Dead to the twisteds, dead to the scants, dead to the deaf radar of the plummetings. As the assumptions pile up, you merrily enter the gloom, intact, preserved, shining like a starberry. With the torrential consoles laughing unexcitedly, you peer more deeply into the extinguished flame, the ride of unimaginable launderings poked through and glum. It's really rather easy to be a dashing dot cadaver, immune to the lashings of the severed statements, glistening instead of listening, triumphant in a corpse-like bliss of far hits and near misses. You're impenetrably monstered in your nuanced surrender to the fadings and lack of fate. Don't worry because it's easy, unfathomably easy to be dead to the things everybody's living for, what everyone's dying to possess, as you sand, sift, and surge onward toward the impossible ideals. It's done. Poetically.
Posted by steven edward streight at 11/22/2006 03:22:00 AM