2000-10-02
When words cannot describe exaclty what you want to say, sometimes I grasp for words that do not exist.
Words to fully contain my sentiment and words that are almost transient to time and place and can remain alive yet never seem misplaced or out of known context. Being does not have a context, it just is, at times I feel cannot be described, it's not that nothing is happening but you are trapped into recognising the everyday as everyday, as something ordinary not extraordinary. It saddens me.
The ordinary is what makes us as people, the ordinary is me, and when we so often ignore what is deemed ordinary do we ignore too much? The brain I feel blocks out things that we don't want to know see or hear, just like I believe that the mind keeps secrets from itself what if all of what we are seeing around us, the dirt, the granduer and the gloss is only a small part of the world, if what we are seeing is only the sample our brain lets us see and the rest is too ordrinary to even focus on. Imagine the parts the brain is ignoring then, many cannot even fathom the possibility, but I enjoy it, but it scares me, sometimes at night I think hard trying to will my brain to let me see the rest, let me feel the parts it is blocking us all out of.
But maybe it is me, just strange in my world, an oddity that ponders beyond means and doubt when I should just be eating cotten candy and staring at the sun.
glitter, goddesses and gloss .