irsinkast

It is not a curse but a blessing  to be at this point in time.  An opportunity for advancement.  Even regression is a form of evolution.  An exalted one  I dare say.  It shows true insight  into the insignificance of accomplishment. It clearly demonstrates  its immaterial nature.  Yet  at the same time it reveals its grand implications.  Sitting with your eyes closed  you too have wanted.  You have summoned your  most carnal desires  out of thin air.  They have shaped an image that you have bonded  to your flesh.  You have created  worlds. The step from here  to actual genesis  is very small indeed.  You will instill real substance.  And at the centre  of all this inception  spins the wheel of destruction.  Awaiting the first  sign of imbalance.  Which is bound to arrive.  I look at the time and how it flows by me like a stream.  How it takes the now and  washes it towards the oblivious sea  as

We took a drive into the city to check out the opening  of a night shop  slash book store slash gallery. New fads are flashing their pink all of the time  I guess.  Back in my days things were just a lot different. Not that they were any less about the form  than they are now. But I was younger. And more forgiving. I can't stand the perfect haircuts anymore.  But I was no better  at that age. Maybe I'm just not fit to mingle with twenty-something year olds.  I have passed my prime. That's for sure.  I still have the same fuck you all attitude I had when I was twenty. And even though  I recognize and agree that it's a stupid attitude I'm proud to be like that.  I don't  stand my ground. I don't muck about.  I don't  nod.  I don't know  that book. Or that new single.  I don't know anything.  Stop asking me  stupid shit like that, please.

We land somewhere  smack in the middle  of a new form  as if nothing happened and  nothing needed any least bit  of resolving.  How ignorant on all our parts.  Only the contrary is really true  as it so often is.  There is something  quite insane about humans  and their ways of coping  with their pains  by heralding the opposites. It is all perversely incompatible,  I'm sure.  But anyway,  it's all back to semi-normal.  The little days  peek through the cracks  in our memories  only to see  the same old sun  burning away  at our hydrogen  fusing the hell  out of the great passions  we once felt.  Into solid lumps of heartlessness  we melt.  A now tasteless indifference  towards all the places  that we used to love  with a vengeance.  What a disgusting waste  of life.  Once more  we flourished  for a few nearly negligible  but sacred mountaintop moments.  We never came  that close