Posted by Jerry on March 31, 2006
The jolly-light jingles of TV commercials seem awfully contrived at this time. It’s trying woefully hard to generate cheer, but I only feel a very detached indifference to it; maybe not wholly detached, because I do ponder its efforts with a resigned, hopeless amusement. I look at what it’s trying to entice me with, and I search myself for what to offer in return; nothing comes.
The wind is bellowing its angst outside. Why is it so twisted in its torrent? What does it ask of me? Why is it so violent? I hear your pain, the anger in your gust. Stay calm.
It’s a staccato moment that has now so tragically manifest. I’m suspended above the blankness of the moment – between the richly textured past, and the fuzzy blur of the future.
It’s unbearably quiet inside my head. The sounds of this world does not seem to reach past the walls of my mind. Words like feelings, emotions like sounds, violent like restraint, they are all so loud, all urging to get out – but my mind is occupied in some quiet meditation:
I think of grass, and blades of grass, and beads of dew clinging on blades of grass, and that’s the form that my memories take – faceted, ephemeral, diaphanous.
I am only waiting now, for the imminence of the hours; for it do with me what it must. It’s a quiet Gethsemane in which I am patiently waiting; I’m utterly petrified. But I’m ready.