Tuesday 13th June 2006
Dearest Me,
Tuesday.
Work on Wednesday.
The last holds no significance outside of it’s own actions; pick up telephone; speak into telephone; write down number, name, message; e-mail number, name, message. Lunch hour comes. Lunch hour goes. Frank 3 or three hundred envelopes; to homes on roads within this city; to London streets; to European capitals and American backwaters; elicit excitement contained within my smartly dressed heart. Crack jokes. Crack. Crack. Like small thunder. Academics droop in heat, turn irritable upon the stair. I sing to myself as I cash up. Can count money only by looking now, my one, my only- my redundant skill.
That will be my tomorrow.
Today I wake from one-dream-sleep. My love in a shop working for no pay, hidden from public view. He chooses me a blue and white toy; full childhoodly pure colours; more than plastic. I never take the toy home. I come to pick up the toy each week. We hold hands over cold Formica. He never reminds me to take the toy. The toy is our love- useless but good looking. My love is so pleased to be hidden. One day a familiar face appears; eyebrows raised in excitement at this discovery, ‘here you are! Where have you been?!’. The next week I am bundled into a large black van, the space inside so much more than plausible. An exhaustive void. Time passes. I emerge aged and my love is gone.
What did I do? Oh yes, I awoke. The world was not changed. Why would it be? Am I to be no longer shaped by currents of others? Am I now my own tide, my own moon, my own gravity? I long to be touched by a loving caress. I have not known sober intimacy for so long, so long, so long. The truth of sex haunts me. The mess and the terror left behind when the lover leaves. Because; they will always leave me. My imagination can no longer offer me fantasy so I live in a new celibacy, skin as brittle as the dried bone within- terracotta heart surrounds knowing air. Drink drink drink myself into Saturday nights of flirting but then white nothing till morning
I sat in the garden with a cup of coffee. Two golden slugs stretched their slick way over dewy grass. Snails humped along. Woodlice careered over mountainous muddy peaks and spiders bolted from leaf shadow to leaf shadow. Snipped conversation drifts to my ears as people pass on the other side of the towering ivy fence. Wasps browse, click click click collect. Cars rumble. Bright dull bright dull then bright. Then bright. The good weather runs on and I feel my skin tight and my belly full and warm. There is No One. There is No One again. Why does No One keep annoying me like this? Can’t No One understand I don’t want that kind of company?
Carefully I wrap a gift of words and rhythms for my favourite friend. She is far away but closer to me than anyone else. Sometimes I fall to thinking; what will I do with all this time? With some of this time I should like to break the silence in conversation with my favourite friend. By recording the time and then wrapping it to send to her I am doing just that. It feels good and I enjoy the objects that result from my love for my friend.
Is the only thing to learn in life that Nothing Matters?
Academics and advocates of Absence as Presence as Absence would get all hett up about that sentence question… oh! Oh! Oh! Everything is Nothing! Nothing IS Everything! Oh! OH! I would try to stop them and explain, calm down- it’s not that you’re wrong but what you’re dealing in there is language… if I may be so bold… of course I see your point! And- yes!- what an exciting thing! The eternally emptying and refilling sign… but, ah but- what I mean to say is- stop. There is no meaning and so we are all free.
Then I think; is my medication fooling me into this?
Then I think; what do you mean Alisia? Do you think that if you weren’t medicated you would believe in God?!
By God I mean; Meaning.
Oh- but of course; God is in us all.
Yawn.
The problem with this kind of philosophising is that it really should be for personal use only- keep it to yourself! Other people may not want to know, and this is ok. Because outside of Meaninglessness is Choice and thus; if people choose to live differently to you what right do you have to dismiss them as being wrong? Each manner of existence is a way of dealing with Meaninglessness. Ultimately, we only have time to fill. Even then- why not let go of time and this progressive must-be and allow it to become something altogether more gentle. Let time slip around you, swim in it a while. Hmmm, it feels better than panic.
Often I am sure that I am Alright Now but I forget that Now passes. Really, I mean it. When I am Absolutely Now I am Alright. As soon as I turn about in time I am Not Alright. Even the slightest consideration of Future can send me reeling and- worse still- only the smallest trigger of Past can knock me off course for weeks!
Such delicate creatures we humans.
If you decide to embrace Meaninglessness things can get tricky. Meaninglessness is a great lover of the word ‘things’- what a wide lot of all it covers. Things that can get tricky are Social Situations; people can often seem very dull when you fall in love with Meaninglessness. Work; it is hard to keep a straight face when confronted with people who think they are better than you, because Meaninglessness makes us all equal and therefore funniness is replete. Entertainment and Making become the two greatest elements of life when one finds Meaninglessness. All art suddenly has a place and previous snobberies slip away- however, Entertainment can entwine, even mesh, with this loss of snobbery and cause it to reappear as a source of Personal Play- like a cat with a ball of wool. One can find pleasure in batting about the notions of superiority claimed by some Makers. However, one can bat away safe in the knowledge that this wool may at present be tightly wound in its colour but at a future point may be knitted into a Meaningless Jumper.
Yes, I know- that last paragraph went too far.
I seem to have made myself rather tired.
Who am I writing to? Who am I ever writing to?
Oh! Entertainment- friends have a great cadence within Meaninglessness. Everything can be regarded with Interest; as ways of dealing with a lifetime.
Outside of Meaninglessness is Evolution- if you regard all developments as being part of an Evolution then one can find comfort in times of darkness. That Life is the only God and that it is blunt nosed and glorious and will push over through around in under over our constructed notion of Time regardless of our puny actions; that makes Meaninglessness the most beautiful deal ever struck. Struck between elements existent in earthly green abundance and dark spiralling infinity.
Toodle pip!
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