Wednesday, 15 June 2016

When the Time comes..

There is a time.. which is as inevitable as the Titanic's Iceberg; as it slowly approaches, your outlook gets blinkered; and solemn thoughts turn to finality, and the totality of Death.. you are not alone; yet paradoxically you can only go alone, as we all will, through a radical physiological transformation.. eek!..

and suspended from rotting too quickly by, "refrigeration"  then go from just below Zero, to burnt toast approx 870–980 °C (1,600–1,800 °F) there is a chance, some may survive.. to a higher level of consciousness; not all men are equal; and not all Men go to Heaven, which obviously includes Women too... which is a 'Given'...

a body is only a training State or Mechanism, to formulate a sentient entity in the first place...

when you begin to release your grip on this frail reality.. bit by bit.. a bit like a computer in bits.. cos Computers can totally fail, But; you may well be able to retrieve the valuable information, and wild creations you have attempted if not completed for an uncaring posterity, 

that values your passing and the lasting of a phrase here or there.. that gets embedded into the raw Hypertext of Human consciousness.. to make an anonymous legend, who luckily has no Ego..

a Time when you no longer want to got to the Theatre; or the movies, you barely want to be seen by living creatures at all.. you want to run to the shadows; and hide in the darkness where shame lives and thrives..

My libido is totally tit's up.. I can still ejaculate quite effortlessly, problem is I am just viewing it, it has become an "autonomous observation" I dont actually take part.. it's like a donation; rather than the result of stimulation.. I watch from outside the body not within?.. but It dont bother me.. too much I accept it with humility..

I think it is the slow psychosomatic internal fade down for the big DBO (Theatre terminology for a 'Dead Black Out') and acceptance of the utter futility of life and the infinitesimal pointlessness of an individual's existence..

When all the future is past you, your life is mostly lived, there is no future for the ageing.. no career to persue, nothing much to do at all; except whittle and fritter whats left away.. Scratching a few signs of your fading existence on the way...

Trying to sing.. lost my voice.. trying to be excited about anything is too much effort... just a Rat wheel in a small cage that takes you nowhere... your routines of watching certain channels at particular times, to see you fill of Tellyland.. the world outside your tiny realm of existence.. amounting to a flake of dust on a Biker's windshield...

a Bug on the paintwork.. when you know the time has come to, give up and die; that is your last task... to prepare yourself for the end; bitter or sweet... it's all yours... and all humanity dies alone... they took the ride; you know one day; will be yours... getting strapped in, and jaw sewn up; to keep your mouth closed... then burnt to a Cinder and put in a plastic Urn.. sheer poetry.. which ends up as graffiti..

Bye Bye...

Just Kidding; I am about to have Dinner, and believe me I am Salivating since the first paragraph.. the Disciplines required to write; are harder than mining coal in a deep mine... the mind is limitlessly deeper.. and some never escape from it.. in one untainted piece.. to survive and tell the story beyond imagining... of; 'that escape'..

to people who wont believe you anyway.. yet you strive to raise a Cod!.. or a snort of passing interest..

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