All posts in category elaborating on the never happening
‘endlessly making an end of things’
Posted in a rolling head gathers no moss, alchemy, anonymuncule flies into the sun, apocalypse, archetype flies into the sun, breathing rights, come scamper with the gnomes, don't touch my hang glider, elaborating on the never happening, everything is in everything, i am in chains don't touch my chains, i feel vagulous don't you, i'm glowing don't touch me, ignotum per ignotius, imagined short-course narcosis therapy, it's the end of the song play it again, let's pretend everything is new again, lost is the new found, mondays, music, music as emotional language, parts of the whole, real-time dilution of a previously useful system of categorization, self-medication, somewhere else, stare into this ever-spinning pinwheel, the antidote is also the poison, the antidote is inside all of us, yellow swans
Posted by sean on August 2, 2021
https://sd-stewart.com/2021/08/02/endlessly-making-an-end-of-things/
disordered chronology of movement
I.
Failed recollections to begin with. Slow-creeping toward habit. A giant round metal head. Sudden velocity. Sudden inertia. Pavement merges with gravel. The emergence of a tentative consciousness, neither hard nor pebbly. Vexation of unidentified raptors. Vultures soar over open sore in ground. A blast. Winged assassins. New commonness of thrashers in the street. Feet to pedals. The river like a swollen artery choked with plaque. Ungroundedness. Slow mounting keen of a train not far off. Dream rivulets running off a dry and calloused cerebellum. The importance of a second floor. Eye contact with strangers. Avoid building awareness of a presence. A body imagined close, a body far off yet close, a body buried in dry soil, a body husking a soul. A dipping line, looming and drawing back, tangled in the hanging moss of a halting lifetime.
II.
The exultant dismissal of everything. A hitching-up of trouser legs above this rising level of foreign liquidity. A spreading out tempered by a wish to gather in. Weathering. Rusty rooftop with greenery. The futile accomplishment of deletion. Southern hospitality. Sensory overload. Sensory deprivation. Every atom split to populate a neverending shell game run by con artists connotating the building blocks of life. It’s so casual is what it feels like. An unseemly seeming accidental existence. And yet people fly planes. Against near-white skies. This is a reason not to listen to all the best songs in a row. This is the reason time means nothing. Look out, the fuse is lit. See how it sputters, this heat seen and heard, racing on its journey to a black-powder shattered shack. Every early morning blink of a first-opened eye, this fuse is lit. And wetted fingertips flutter to pinch it out quick.
III.
Bird on a wire, sing your song, lift your wing to the world. Swoop down and over this set of fleet footprints filled in long ago. Expectations of nothing can never be unfulfilled. It’s a something-nothing to believe in, at least. An anti-ideal to carry stuck beneath an idealist’s forever-sweating armpit. Relish the freedom of solitude in public places. Deny detours diverting detritus. Pick it up, handle it, determine meaning and value, discard when done. Don’t look back but for inspiration. Forward motion fuels freedom. Reminders come free.
Posted in aether, anonymuncule flies into the sun, birds, breathing rights, cycling, dreams, elaborating on the never happening, escape, everything is in everything, friends, giant things, i feel vagulous don't you, i'm glowing don't touch me, in-between, isolation, it's always the smallest things that catch in your throat and fill you with a bit of light, it's the end of the song play it again, lassitude, learning to fold the map of my avoidance techniques, let's all synchronize our watches to 00:00, let's pretend everything is new again, memory, nothing, other things, parts of the whole, philosophastering, real-time dilution of a previously useful system of categorization, restlessness, rivers, rootlessness, south carolina, stream of whateverness, summer, swirly patterns, the antidote is also the poison, travel, wednesdays are weird, where are all the decoder rings
Posted by sean on June 19, 2013
https://sd-stewart.com/2013/06/19/disordered-chronology-of-movement/
inside a person another one
this life in parallel there’s always been, inside a person another one, what do others do, deny it i guess, or maybe it’s not there, for them it’s not there, and i see it all before me what will never come but what has happened, what is happening, inside a person another one, it’s been there all along, and it keeps growing, keeps expanding, so many layers, painstakingly detailed scenes, every time some spark strikes, the line of tinder crackles, the fuse is lit, i can’t put it out, i could never put it out, there are ways to try, and i know some other ways i’ve seen others try, each one ends the same way, we all know how it does, yes, we do, and do you know how when you’ve done things so often, day in and day out, and then one day you do something a little different and it throws you off, it pushes you off onto another track, but not enough to shift you into the parallel life, no, not that far, just enough to make you stop for a minute and think about it all, about that other life and where it’s going, the people in it, the way they’ve come into being, likely so different than how they are in this life, the way you act, the way they act, whatever happens, and what if the two converged even for a day or just an hour, what then, what then for the person inside the person, the two people now, who looms larger, a dried-out husk of aloofness wraps around the hot soldering iron trapped inside, look out, fire hazard, i smell smoke, i’ve seen the others burn themselves up, i know how it all ends, it’s near halfway and i see the hazy shapes down below resting on the sea floor, so many split halves, so many discarded broken parts, a graveyard of misshapen lives.
Posted in breathing rights, daydreaming, elaborating on the never happening, everything is in everything, foam, go to sleep now and when you wake it will be another day, i am in chains don't touch my chains, inner life, it's the end of the song play it again, late night, let's all synchronize our watches to 00:00, let's pretend everything is new again, lost is the new found, lucus a non lucendo, nothing, one hundred beers of solitude, parts of the whole, please don't read this, scouring the ocean floor for reading material, seasonal affective decreation, shadow, spider spider spider, stream of whateverness, surrealism, the antidote is also the poison, this is the explanation of a tuesday, where are all the decoder rings
Posted by sean on November 27, 2012
https://sd-stewart.com/2012/11/27/inside-a-person-another-one/
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