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July 3, 2007 Ummph. If you go by manicured openings above where the rivers roam, and the sun is up but the cold wind visits there, you can stand in a bit of a stasis and breathe. After you breathe from your stomach a few times, you can take a piss there, and wonder at time, wonder at what becomes of time, and wonder at wonder. There, water can well up in the eyes as the wind goes in the eyes, and there is something that strikes the eye, just ahead. The tall green ground, the tallness, being blown and bent by the wind. The wind’s mood is indifference, or worse, on the other side of indifference, and brings with it a fierce aspect. You saw that wind before, on some other Saturday afternoon. You think of Saturn. Deep, deep in those hours years before, you’d swear there was a wind like that, and you were somewhere, in your own space literally and metaphorically. That is where it could have been a time of the finest and sharpest depression, and you’d been so socked in the soul there was no getting up. But of course you got up, to take a piss, or to go outside where that wind that inhabits the other side of indifference comes and bends the grounds, and you drink in the air, and dreams take you back and in, back and in, back and in, where the light is so bright it is dark, where you are the wind, where you know more about it than even Saturn does. Sometimes, the world is a welcome to the league check. The buzzer has gone, your head is down, and then you are clipped. Its against the rules, and to boot, to add insult to injury, you are called a fuckin’ pussy. That is how the wind can grow and growl at times. Ummph. ------------ Email Brian Michael Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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