thus spake freud

Two ways of ringing in the old - remembering and repeating. So when you're not mooning over the past you're cloning it. That should explain the fish bowl.

video

When you stare too long at an embryo what stares back? Life itself? Or the Ipse- the singularity, of genius (in waiting)?

coir; not tussar

Existence as heap of unravelled twine. Locus? Described by trailing kitestring. Glass and grime make it impossible for compassionate bystander - waiving the impossibility of compassionate bystander - to pick up loose thread and ask that liberating Pourquoi story.

Meanwhile, roll along, diminishing in size, as if at mercy of a malign cosmic paw. Begin "I- and know not who. The inability to overcome solipsism, for one isn't even that far yet.

There it is. How Humans Came to be Undone.

string theory

I like to begin

to unravel,

two strands of twine 

at a time:

It hasn't just begun, really. It's been 

Beginning.

When reef knot will not

do, stay. When

nothing will pass up

a kick, a poke, a friendly jab.

Stay. When

yoga or Carmine or chamomile

only tingles, only tangles 

only makes you dangle 

little longer.

Stay. Wear it 

down to the last thread; 

watch. Meanwhile,

pickle me pink.

janus

Sick to gills of 

prevarication 

hyperventilation 

circumlocution 

pretension - 

Balking at 

reef-knots 

cross-stitch 

knit knit 

purl purl.

Torch down your cave falls on nothing. No diamonds in your cobwebs. You can have your darkness and eat it too. Your messes, your trifles, your grey gooseberry dreams. Build your fortress, one paradox at a whine, and pout and stay put.

You, I want. I want, you. 

I want to drink your light in. 

The irradiation off your teeth teeth, 

the light that catches your iris, your luminous 

scrupulous skin. Come in, come in.

not exactly Jung

The Victim? Too haughty.
The Queen? Fell.
The Clown? Too dry.
The Satirist? Hope too desperately.
Blonde (but sweet)? Spell too well.
The lithe Fool? See through too much.
The Hermit? Love too hard.
Angel? Too much rage.
The concerned Representative? Deathly reticent.
The Wallflowers, then? Not enough.
Speak? Why?
Shut Up? Fume too much, still.
Fly? Fear of falling, remember?
Stay-at-home Mom? Too little content.
So you're Wilde? I'm Earnest.
Blyton? Too controversial.

What's left to be? Sensible.