Thots
Posted on: September 27, 2005
Sometimes my thoughts are like butterflies, I catch one in a net but want it to go free, because butterflies are beautiful when they are flying around. I never did find a pinned-and-preserved butterfly pretty. Infact, I find them quite ugly because how still they are. Death, lack of animation, no dynamics, just… static. Static in the kind of radio wave interference too, a steady hiss, no modulation, no new jam tones dripping through the waffled roof of the overbearingly epicurean soul.
And then some.
I had a power outage today. It always bothers me when that happens. May have been construction down the road knocking up one of the wires. There is a beautiful aspect, however: I do not currently have a wristwatch (after my last one died as I blogged about) and all clocks in my dwelling are electric. So, I have no marked hours. Things feel more free, I am not a slave to chronology. I know there should be a give-and-take.
I wonder what a butterfly with watermelon wings would look like, carefree, no sense of time. Time would exist, and would pass on, and maybe sometimes so much awareness isn't a good thing because it makes one self-conscious and paralyzes. Which is the paradox, that time will move on but you freeze up.
And time, as they say, waits for no one. What if time committed suicide?

