I wrote a brief response to the doggie people and realised, upon stumbling across it again (somebody actually liked it!) how poorly worked it was and thought, to feel a little less dumb, I should make some basic corrections.
It still doesn’t really work, but it is a post, and I’m struggling to post anything at all at present.
***
Fingers playing Under the sheets Minds entwined Where love greets Itself. With skin Heartbeats within Tap out a tune. That soon Becomes a melody For you and me Perfectly matched But have barely scratched With those fingers What lingers Beneath the surface
I turn up for about 1 in 50 of Sami’s prompts . In truth I don’t turn up to much at all these days.
But I have actually visited the catacombs a few times, though I had almost forgotten – that other life of mine being so far in the past. But since the catacombs themselves are all about past lives I thought that I might pay homage one more time.
***
Christians lying in a row Secret tunnels down below Away from Roman prying eyes Faithful man goes when he dies This resting place, this final home Here within the catacomb Where I, an atheist at best Am humbled, quietly impressed By faith itself, by pure belief By death that came as pure relief Here rest believers of the past Perhaps you’ve found your God at last May your eyes still somehow see The meaning of the mystery
I decided to open up WordPress this morning and respond to the first challenge that I saw, and Charli Mills is, thus, the dubious recipient of my short-term attention span. Her challenge …. to write a 99 word story about free pie.
I would not normally consider writing about pie. I don’t even like pie. But that is the nature of a challenge, I suppose. And, at least, I didn’t have to actually eat one. And it’s not really a story.
A friend reported to me earlier today that she had temporarily lost her mind. She said it as though it were a bad thing.
But I was instantly jealous. Frankly, I frequently wish that my mind would just fuck off and leave me alone. I have done a lot of thinking and I have come to the conclusion that I do far too much of it. Enough is enough. There has to be a better way.
So I am trying to get a quasi-religious movement up and running based around the idea of non-thinking. Neutral thoughtlessness, if you like. I understand the difficulties, especially at the moment, with rampant pandemics, climate change, the threat of nuclear war and so on, seemingly engulfing us all.
Yes.
As I say – I understand the difficulties.
But I haven’t given it much thought.
*
Anyway, getting back to my friend……. I wrote her a little poem to cheer her up and to perhaps encourage her to embrace her mindlessness, at least for a little while. The gift of thought comes as something of a mixed blessing, in my opinion.
Richmond Road 