Wednesday, January 18, 2012
"...at one time, sir, we were...I think...surrounded by physical objects...remember? ruminating on occasion, deep into the cold, knotted red hand's winter evening... come to me, physical objects... listen to this voice- my voice- you scattered physical objects... there is still so much here between us... still an awful lot we have to share and exchange with each other..."
the ancient masters,
the marshaling of so much unpublished and unmanifested...
(much of it dead, locked, out/postdated, redundant...)
(some of it painfully relevant)
(most of it no longer even accessible)
(withdrawing once again into one's cellular chamber)
(withdrawing ravenously into one's own imagined protection)
"...maybe he should have worked harder...I dunno...maybe he should have seen farther..."
such an obscene mass of:
1) knowledges [plural]
2) folly, sin, madness [singular]
3) memory, memories [both and neither]
4) hidden, unknown, and nothingness [no longer applicable]