Monday, September 05, 2005
Something
Writing about it alters you in ways that the original experience did not.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Smoking the Peace Pipe
I seem to have jettisoned the burden of memory, somewhere down the line, over the past three months. It has been a life less ordinary, lived with manic passion, driven to nowhere at the end. I have made my peace with most questions and issues. There are very few that survive or thrive on their own. Those that do, do raise their many-headed visages now and then, only to slip away into the nothingness that is at the core of my soul. I listen, only to let emotions, words, phrases, thoughts and ideas take shape which soon dissolve into the colourlessness and emptiness of the great void, like tendrils of smoke dissipating into whorls seen through scattered shafts of light piercing a darkened room.
The tobacco, however, is strong, pungent and makes for a good pipe...
