float/fade/dissipate (19/April/18)

conversation’s overrated… people talk too much… some never seem to stop… their mouths moving in time attempting to translate some inner monologue into something intelligible to an outside world whether that outside world wants to hear it or not…… much verbalising blah-blah-blah but so little said… like the difference between hearing and listening, you may have heard something but did you actually listen…… so much nothing evaporates within seconds of leaving the lips escaping at the speed of breath as though spurning the orator with a “must get away, must get away”… streams of niceties, background noise, the etiquette of strangers, the acquiescence of acquaintance, the predictability of friends…… being still like children with a new toy, trying to learn what to do with it while it defies us as intangibly as the air upon which it floats, fades and dissipates… and so often makes such a din before it does finally surrenders to space, such potential for richness all too often reduced to poverty and frequently leaving a bad taste in the mouth…… non-verbal communication gets smothered that endless inane chatter, the sound of their own voices droning on and on and on and on andonanaonandonandonandonandonand… see… it might turn into a mantra falling into a single note forging a visceral connection with the earths harmonic, the very note it too is humming at that very moment bringing gravity to its knees and aligning every molecule of air opening a huge pit of boredom into which we are all sucked once and for all and forever, amen…… that’d stop someone talking that’s for sure……… we all know someone who does it and it’s usually the one with the most grating or monotonous voice, like combing your ears with a porcupine or drowning in instant custard, one packed with e-values and preservatives and sugar-substitutes, sugar and salt and other type-2 diabetes time-bombs…… often what’s being said doesn’t need to be and frequently repeated as though their brain has run out of things to verbalise but for reasons unfathomable they feel compelled to keep rabbiting on regardless worried that if they stop talking they’ll no longer exist…. although quiet often  the listener might wish they didn’t… one could call it dullardry, the art of continuously talking to the point that no one not even yourself is listening and yet the mouth keeps going on andonanaonandonandonandonandonand……

© 2018 robert greig

propounding the putative (21/Jan/18)

there’s a conundrum, one of many I’m sure as that is the way of conundrums, short for a company of nuns drumming perhaps… but it isn’t, wouldn’t it be good if it was… I’ve seen nuns singing, dancing but never drumming… but this of course has taken me off course so I’ll tack right back right away…

there’s a conundrum…

I’m holding a piece of string, it’s almost taut but not quite but taut enough to not be touching the ground, suspended if you will, and at the other end… well, therein lies a conundrum, what is at the other end?.. someone else holding it?… is it attached to something?…. is that something moving, and if it is, is it moving away or towards?…… is the string the conundrum, or is the conundrum me, or is the conundrum at the other end of the string?… or is it the situation in itself?… is the conundrum that I’m asking myself  whether or not this is a conundrum?…

or is it a dilemma?… are there only two choices here, and if so choices of what specifically?… or is it a trilemma… or even a multilemma?…. a lemma-filled situation perhaps and if so what preliminary proposition have I taken for granted in the first place?… though the tag phrase “in the first place” was surplus to requirements as I’d already made the point saying “preliminary”, but I’ll let that one slide… for now…

I have no idea how long this piece of string is and if I should let go or not… is this the conundrum, whether to let go or not?… or the dilemma, being hold it or drop it?……

or is it a mystery which it may very well be… meanwhile, fourth cup of tea later… but in a way I hope not being a mystery is actually by its true nature something never to be told or disclosed, a never-known… and do I want to never know what’s at the other end of the piece of string?… or like I already considered, do I want know unequivocally? … a tricky word to say and type at the same time, it always goes wrong…

or is it an enigma, or is part of this scenario enigmatic?… is the string itself an enigma and, or, what’s at the other end?…

an epistemological dialectic swaddled in an enigma boxed in a conundrum baked in a mystery and seasoned with dilemma… and still there’s this piece of string of which I’m holding one end… how can I even be sure there is another end, maybe there is more than one end, could a single piece of string do that, become two maybe three maybe more and still being a single piece of string?… or am I just propounding putative postulations………?

© 2018 robert greig

daily unavailable (13/Jan/18)

not coming out…

I don’t want to get up yet…

so I won’t…  didn’t… why should I….. yes I’m tired but it’s not that… I’m cosy, cossetted, enveloped in duvet, inside a Goldilocks zone…… it’s not about finding the right escape velocity required with which to extricate myself from it’s gravitational field it’s just I’m awake now and although I may doze again I don’t need to go back to sleep and miss these moments of bliss… I’ve no desire to take the next step and break the spell… I know what’s out there… the world, and it’s agoraphobically huge…… and my balance isn’t quite ready for that yet…… just a few or more minutes…… I could do with a cup of tea and it won’t make itself, and I’ve given the butler the day off… butler? what butler?… makes note: must hire a butler… makes another note: must make enough money to pay for a butler… makes a third note: do I really want a butler?……

I’m sure if I stay long enough I’ll still be here when the phone rings, as it does roughly the same almost but not quite every morning around 9am’ish, which is hours away yet… it’s always the same, I call it my “daily unavailable” as the caller display merely shows it as ‘UNAVAILABLE’, meaning it’s a withheld number… sneaky…… I’ve never yet discovered who or what is calling me at roughly the same time almost but not quite every day, I even miss it when it doesn’t …… six rings then gone just before my answerphone  kicks in, most uncanny… I wonder if it’s a very late wake-up call“hello, just called to tell you you’re awake”…… I’ve never answered, usually not making it to the phone in time… I reckon if someone doesn’t leave a message then it’s not important… but to be fair how would I know for sure if I don’t pick it up?…… but what then?… then I’d know?… do I want to know?……

my daily unavailable has become almost ritualised, even when it happens almost and not quite at 9am’ish but always I get a knowing vibe saying it’s my daily unavailable

… I don’t know how I know, I’m no psychic…… of course it’s likely just cold-calling… arrogant, presumptuous businesses using auto-diallers and armies of faceless call-centre slaves to harass random people with more bullshit than you can stir into a slurry pit, but, I’ve established a peculiar détente with my daily unavailable, one of curiouser and curiouser design……

© 2018 robert greig