Inscription....
I had a notebook for as long as I could remember. A notebook where I used to write down words that had a little edge to them, words that I liked to play with, whose rhythms and connotations evoked something deep inside. As a person who claimed to write, dared to make that claim, I remember always loving to play with words, listen to their overtones, dance to their rhythms, crack them open and stick my thoughts into its core. In there I mustered jolly good words I picked up from somewhere, some book, some billboard, advertisement, journal, life as it passed by.
I remember writing down paragraphs from books that spoke to me, magnified my ambiguities, made me ruminate, made me the most intense shade of blue, sent sensory impulses to the brain which opted to rush adrenaline to my being. One of those few things that remained with me for a very very long time.
I leafed through that 2000 paged notebook with my empire of outpours since the time I concluded that I grew up. I leafed through those pages with different phases of handwriting, with different tastes for authors, genres, that marked my childhood, adolescence, time periods in my life that has no name and to some extent no significance either. It was chiseled with care and details which canvassed my ‘nows and thens’, spasms, denials, relapses..... I would record events; rearrange them, have control over them; have them my way; and on the process rearrange what I had: my life, my reality in being. It wasn’t a private journal, where I recorded daily chores and events, that would be a different impulse all together. It was a testament for a chronic re-arranger who was afflicted by some pre-sentiment of impairment....it had stapled pages where I had written something and found it relevant enough to go in that scrap book, it had pages from notepads with airway’s letterheads I had written on when waiting for planes at airports or just plain notepad pages jotted down on when just plain waiting for plain nothings, it had napkins I had shed ink on, in cafes, parks, classes, and places with no names...some of it made no sense at all when I later read them, thus found a way in that book, my book of my very own non-sense...
It was my consultant when in need to re-find myself, when writing , to amaze and amuse myself, to be awed by the beauty of the shades of words, to leisure, to produce, to fight something, to fight ‘the nothing’....
Today....
When I was in need to do all that today, I realized I lost it. I realized a few minutes back that I have it no more...while preparing and getting ready to lunch, I realized I HAD LOST IT. Seconds back life just changed in the instant....
Today....
When I was in need to do all that today, I realized I lost it. I realized a few minutes back that I have it no more...while preparing and getting ready to lunch, I realized I HAD LOST IT. Seconds back life just changed in the instant....
" Life changes fast,
life changes in the instant,
you sit at the dinner table and life as you know it ends"
...thsts' all that is coming to mind....
life changes in the instant,
you sit at the dinner table and life as you know it ends"
...thsts' all that is coming to mind....
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