A really funny thing has now happened. This entire blog post erased as I selected to open to edit it. This is the second time this has now happened.
I don't know what to say about that.
Time is erasing behind me perhaps?
Because I went through a period of posting same or similar posts to a Wordpress blog, I have a copy of the post which was originally here. I can copy-paste it.
This post was written after a period of unpublishing a previous blog, starting again. It was an uncomfortable time. The previous blog is republished and a selection of the posts viewable on the first website.
A funny thing happened on the way to silent reconciliation with my own company. I found that the occasional desire to throw words onto a page still existed. Hence the page. And now the words. Not much to say actually. Not in the digitised world anyways. And yet, I am sure that there is something here precipitating this white page and pulsing cursor.
Soon I shall be moving house. Leaving this state called Queensland, moving farther south than I have lived in decades. I savour the feel of it, leaving. I look favourably toward the next place, mostly because it is a move, and because I confidently feel that this move is away from a stagnation and twisting coil of anniversaries filled with ridiculous events.
There are things from this year and last which some part of my thought field tells me I wish to speak about, but really I do not think that I do. What is the purpose of it? This cataloguing of fuckery, this public retelling of things I found to be excessively daft, imbalanced, yet boringly predictable? Aged anniversaries of appointments with damaged fields of sound.
I met a man who made no sense today. He spoke a lot, used many words to support his opinions and observations, yet never actually stated what those were with a clarity which would have made for him a profitable return on the investment of his time and mind.
This man I met used the words of others without reference. That seemed strange as he considers himself a scholar. I wonder again if this world is less reasonable than I first thought? I consider how insane it may be in actuality; how limited in colours of creativity; how repetitively spinning through appointments with broken equations of life probabilities.
Relief is what I feel approaching as the day of removals rolls closer. I imagine that new equations with more balanced placement of that equals sign are closer to me now than the horizon.
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