2004-04-24 - 11:57 p.m.
interest comes from how you manage to arrange things..not how you accept things..
i am of interest because i choose to arrange my words rather than let my words arrange themselves.. although a simple concept, few understand it.
words are dead weight until you lift them.. then they become tools..
words are jungles to get lost in.. until you explore them, and they become home..
in your house, you arrange the furniture.. you paint the walls.. you MADE THE FUCKING POINT.. GET ON WITH IT.
my words
. jump
yes.
....
they jump
. from their perch
my words travel like ants, seemingly aimless when first viewed.. but the more you study them.. the more you see patterns and intent and destinations and motive.. the more they become the outline of a body that can be recognized.. and understood..
but that is from one surgeon to another..
it's strange how so many words can say so very little..and how so few words can say so much..
affiliation is a terrible disease that affects many Wisconsin Synod Lutheran Charismatics.. what a terrible thing .. to belong.. to an ideal based upon the pathogen of distinction.
you know when you make cookies.. and you forget to mix the eggs and the flour and the water and the sugar and the oil raisins and the granola..and you eat all the elements separately..
and you end up puking your guts out all over your new pair of tap shoes
that's distinction
that's a bad chef..
when you blend things, they are compelled to complement each other.. and even out the danger of one another's raw substance.. like a subdued ray of sunlight communicating the destructive blinding hot surface of the sun in a gentle, tangible euphemism of light and warmth..
i say little
and mean to say so much
because there is a cry, an urge, a sound, a chord, a resonance, a plea, a depth, a core, a desire, a need, a hope, a war... an unbrandished charging set of unsatisfied words urging their way to the surface of my lips..
and they are stuck in the words
because these poor words have holes like the most ancient of beggars.. and the substance of them seeps right thru.. like the fine grains of truth allowed to pass thru the broad sifting generalizations of a complacent, fattened, stagnant carnival.. hidden under the colorfully advertized tents of mankind
