Equinox Onward and On

The positioning was one of illusion and haven. And he hollowed his mind and inflated it with air, so his thoughts could circle blackly the sun and belt out words that would keep him in the stars. The ocean guzzled a ship in harbour, the nightshade was stuffed with soft rock songs, and the mood was momentous in making tough choices. In the next morning, he appeared in his hotel’s restaurant. To even the best days there are lacklustre meals, unless he could summon his legs to move forward and out of carpeted floors, six meters away to road and race toward Nirvana with a Polaroid laugh.

But he couldn’t do it. Nothing would be the same. Ends would be loose, and there would be no resolution, anywhere at this time. Life had entangled him in a celestial noose, stitched from the ugly fabric of responsibility. He shot, he froze. And he reached for butter, then he strangled a loaf pan of stale bread with it, and he raced his eyes outside the window, inhaled a lungful cigarette smoke, and revelled in the semblance his life had driven to Hollywood legends.

And so off he goes, sprawling his knees on the wooden chair, waiting for morning to be over, so he can wait for night over lunch. “If life is so iconic, then why am I so unimportant?” Because you’re miserable. “And if day is so bright, then why are my eyes stifled by darkness” Because today is just like every other day, and you’re always pathetic. “I’ll survive this if I only stop” Now? “Yes. Today is just like every other day, and I’m here, and I’m miserable. So, while I’m waiting for another time, I’ll live this day, then leave and live other days”

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Watt

It's all a matter of rust and shine, to serve a distinction between to have and to have not.

57 thoughts on “Equinox Onward and On”

  1. «When a new day begins, dare to smile gratefully.
    When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light.
    When there is the injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it.
    When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway.
    When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back.
    When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some.
    When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going.
    When times are tough, dare to be tougher.
    When love hurts you, dare to love again.
    When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal.
    When another is lost, dare to help them find the way.
    When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand.
    When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile.
    When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too.
    When the day has ended, dare to feel as you’ve done your best.
    Dare to be the best you can – At all times, Dare to be!»
    Steve Maraboli (Life, the Truth, and Being Free)
    «Happiness is not the absence of problems;
    it’s the ability to deal with them»

    Liked by 5 people

    1. (as a reply for the splendid montage of metaphors and similes, — «life had entangled him in a celestial noose, stitched from the ugly fabric of responsibility» and in meanwhile, likewise «if the day is so bright, then why are my eyes stifled by darkness»)

      Liked by 3 people

    1. I don’t think I have what you or Silent Hour have. Your words are always collected in poetic tranquility, often my words seem to lash out in wrong places. But maybe, someday.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow, Watt. You dragged my soul to the floor. “and there would be no resolution, anywhere at this time…Because today is just like every other day, and you’re always pathetic.”
    I do not have words to explain to you how superbly feelings of – how do we call this state? – are captured in this piece . All I can do is agonize on the shadow of your words.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. Lol Watt. Don’t push me 🙂 Let’s drop this one.
        I am still looking for one word that could describe your magnificent writing. What about the French “ennui”? The way the French use it. Perhaps the English word “spleen”?

        Like

  3. Excellent description of this flat feeling, where the days are the same, and everything that happens is like an unremarkable meal, and even if the day is bright you don’t feel so bright yourself… Just live this day and then leave and live other days, as you say.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. “And he reached for butter, then he strangled a loaf pan of stale bread with it,”
    This is such a gorgeous tapestry of your amazing images, and then this particularly jumped out. I love it! 🙂

    (But, I wonder, too, who is always pathetic? Whose voice is that?)

    Liked by 2 people

      1. a while ago I was on a kind of mission to use unused emojis…
        so here’s one I have never used adn I have no clue what it is…
        but let’s call it the definitely more than borderline awesome ticket…or something…
        🎟
        Wow, and on here it looks nothing like on my tablet bahaha

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I think using the unused emojis is a great initiative. I wish more people would take it seriously. Hundreds of people are unable to express themselves in an accurate face because they don’t know about the existence of many emojis.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. And still there could be more, imho…I think it would be fantastic if we could have an app where we could generate our own on the fly…ones that don’t change between platforms…plus, how fun!

        Liked by 1 person

  5. I like this piece. It is human nature to at times feel stagnant, unfulfilled, bored and that we do not matter. Something you’ve done makes this piece a pleasure to read. Perhaps it’s a lyrical thing? You’ve put together several word pairings, and sentences that feel fun, while actually revealing a profound human struggle. It could be that the brief glimpse you give is of a charming and interesting character. Or it could be the setting that you’ve created. Well, whatever it is, this writing weaves a spell.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Stagnance, Boredom. Exactly what I was saying. These things don’t stop us, they make us restless and there’s no cure for what you become or what you are. It’s you forever, everything forever.

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      1. I see humans as fluid, so constantly changing, even if only in minute ways, and even though unaware of it at times. I think that it takes only a small thing to initiate change, but it can take years for that change to appear or become noticeable. One purpose of humans, I think, is the process of becoming, ie., during our entire lives we seek to become the best versions of ourselves. Restless energy is a great catalyst. It reminds me to focus more on what I consider spiritual, like nature or creating. When I get in touch with spiritual elements, I find myself and return to the path of becoming 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

  6. “If life is so iconic, then why am I so unimportant?” Because you’re miserable. “And if day is so bright, then why are my eyes stifled by darkness” Because today is just like every other day, and you’re always pathetic.”

    Man, you are a masterful of poetic genius and inspiration my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. It’s interesting how much boredom and stagnancy feels and sounds like depression. As if boredom is contented depression or even restless depression. A nihilism that accepts reality, and yet continues because why the hell not.

    Keep writing my friend

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Summer feels like this to me sometimes, heavy. I’m a Fall, Winter, Spring person myself. I read this when you posted it and wanted to come back and comment. I always love to read what you write. Beautiful feeling in this one. Sometimes I feel a kindred spirit, but can’t quite put my finger on why. So I let it go and be what it is! Beautiful post Watt!. Hope you had a wonderful week and beautiful weekend. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The thematic construction of this one relied on the absolute nothingness of holidays… An other days which dither and wither for good cause, and you can’t face it or do yourself better.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. An uncommonly talented writer, you are.

    This piece . . . how do you know me? Man oh man.

    I appreciate how you lean into pain as a writer and welcome it as a friend. Robert Frost first turned me on to such bravery in “My November Guest.”

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