Thursday, August 23, 2007

(winter blogs are manifest meat... flowers...).

it was late in the season, even by those summer to end all endless summers standards which imposed so little in the way of chronology but still knew gravity as powerful magic and fire to be contagious. this was last year.

chicago was a gift in late november. the whole place and everything about it. and if i would have written anything about it then it would have said ____. chicago is not much of a gift most novembers, especially near the end like this.

there was a winter storm which was the last part of the gift. i hid, for once, from the snow storm. stayed inside, shades closed from grahams attempts to darken the front room some morning last weekend, listening to the sound of the sleet and wind against glass way up here on the 4th floor.

in the suburbs, stop signs were covered with snow... blending into trees, fences, vertical backdrops of all kinds, and much of the time whole open empty white and desolate midwest landscapes.

i missed a sign at one point. a stop sign. i thought about if a sign (the idea that is the stop sign and the physical presence that points to that idea) could bed taken to a new cognitive level where, ones mind must start to deconstruct perception meaning and action. a sign that says "don't not stop" within a familliar red octagon perhaps? too much second chance?

think about stopping, think about not stopping... don't not stop. don't you not stop.

its a season that ends a little girls wanderings through warzones selling subscriptions of taffey apples.

its a place where there are not jungles but the ones that steam under glass.

everything lives while you watch it die.

i didnt remember that about them (he/she). i did remember this about them. i wonder how i exist to (him/her). so much of my existence is reciprocal. i am me because i know i am me, but to recognize the existence of others is to also validate the existence of ones self. i am an autonomous unique existence within the minds of everyone i come across.

the way that dom exists to me (in my mind) is one way that dom exists.
the way that dom exists to victor is another way that dom exists.

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