Friday, March 13, 2015
Sinuses stuffy, the wind-salt strewn of the sea perorating as local dioramas -- microcosms of sand surf enjoying misarticulated relationships with one another: how long did the hermit crab spend looking for a new home this morning? There was a beetle on the beach which had an argument with an aluminum drink container: both of them came out on the losing side of that argument. Sand grains chirp to each other about the last time their silica was involved in volcanism. Sea-spray, bromine bromeliads, natural incense precessing around classical unities barycenters (some of them performing remarkably adroit Baryshnikov impressions in the delightful concert of the motion of centers of mass of various dynamical systems, interacting to and fro'). Whene'r I might inherit succour of any sort, I do so in some attempt to sing harmony with what cosmic song I can make out -- if only in a rudimentary way, from these dramas and trioramas, from these triremes and mythological scents ramified in my own mythopoeiome: the sungull, the sandcantilever, the Oxid, the Runnymiid and Balacthener, the Gatesneeper, the Mystereography. the Bedecked En, tales and context froth reference leaps whose epics the beach dramas only hint at: I have a thing to do, as they say, no religious encrustation of misguided deontic motivation, just the construction of a bespoke conveyance for the froth by my own delirious and somewhat essentially immiscible-with-brief-context-span epistemologies of the world: to me, the froth is zany, but I can never be assured that it will even pass the perception threshholds of others too invested in industries opaque to me: no bother, no need for any cognitive prescriptivism and its contrary-to-diversity approach. "I had coping mechanisms prior to, and now, well, I see they're functioning peachily. I tried to put as many of my cards on the table as possible (although I don't particularly like that metaphor, as I do entertain antipathy for unnecessary arbitraries conducted for their own transience, and not to any larger structures which might pass unto the ethereal outside the perception thresholds of the very wary), but I am a juggler, not a dancer: I persist on the basis of anticipated catches and throws, not of unpredictable sequences of pulls and pushes whose second and higher order derivatives resemble elf-Braille and are unfriendly to my eyes. Here is this thing, what does it mean to you? Or this other thing?..." the note trailed off. Did I wander down to the village and purchase a two asulnctoro postal voucher and have it posted to an address in the Sahefepan Prefecture? I can't say definitively.