ST31 ... In the park of the world

i feel an unsettling separation

In the park of the world… The people walk by, they sit in their indifference. Families, couples, young kids, old men and women. I am estranged here with my indifferent outlawed meaningless mind. I don't envy their worlds but i feel an unsettling separation. A pigeon squabbles by as if to say, 'hey, it's alright man', at least that is what i felt she said. I am content here to write these words to nobody for nothing. To describe observations floating by. There is a pretty woman sitting across from me. It is a big park. It is the square in the centre of town. To me, i find the beauty of a woman the most gratifying feeling within my heart. Without judgement, desire, analysis, they are on the top of the list of sacredness. Possibly because i am a male. I have no idea, anymore. There is the odd dog on a leach here, i am immediately attracted to their spirit and then i miss Kachi, my friend back home. A line from a Canadian band, the Northern Pikes, that i always thought was great, is, 'she aint pretty, she just looks that way'. I have transferred that thought into many circumstances thru-out the years. 'He aint no saint, he just acts that way'. You feel the vibe, you get the picture. This keeps things in focus. We are all stranded here, endlessly creating meaning where there is none….some brag about it, ram it into existence.

creating meaning; the monkey on my back

I have judgements emanating into and thru-out my mind at lighting speed. I have little control over any of this. The mind has been carefully manipulated, processed, injected with ideals, beliefs, conclusions with out much of my consent. It is who i am, a moving wave interchanging with the environment for a period of time. Some waves are light and transparent and others are thick and sluggish, with infinite variations.

A few little girls just ran by with their Sunday costumes happy and free. Community is the big difference between here and Canada, the States, the western world for the most part. Family is of the outmost importance here, that makes all the difference.

Lighting is everything to a photographer, a painter, an image maker. I am constantly amazed and bewildered at the endless possibilities for an effective composition of light, dark, shades of form and colour for frills.

light is everything, blends entities

I don't question as much as i used to. There is no need. The energy of love is in the silence along the shore. Waves come and go while silence remains under its cover, a blanket of dust smothers the beauty with a magnitude of stuff but love remains true to the waters.

I have nothing to say that hasn't already been said. The colour of the wall across the street is bright burgundy and red intensified from the low flying sun with a calm in my eyes looking for nothing. I go over and over the same concepts as shades of hues swing across the palettes of life. I am bound for glory, i can feel it in my bones.

When the game is all over, all belief will die also. What remains is anybodies guess, but it is still a guess. I used to think i knew something about all that with the out of body travels to talking with entities from afar that were more convincing than anything. Possibly that is all true. But for certain i would tend to say, 'it doesn't matter'. Perhaps it does...so, crucify me.

I know there are those that find contradiction in what i say. Reason gets crippled on the edge of things. I often travel there. I have nothing to prove to anybody or anything. I used to. Often, the grooves of habit force me into a certainty that doesn't exist. When i can, i just let it go bye. That's my cue…..out of here for now.

on on down the line

Thanks for observing and reading my work.

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WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey

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