Part memoir, part stream of consciousness, part diary, part dream, part story, part disclosure, part hiding, part certainty, part doubt, part me, part all of the people I have ever known; partly for you, partly for everyone. Not to put too fine a point on it, however, to become so assured in its use that I might, for this moment, pause.Take a little pace out of the journey; from mind to hand, from hand to page, from page to the thoughts of the reader, whom I would also ask to determine if they might, for now, slow themselves down, or dance a jig, or stub out their last ever cigarette.Whatever their mood, of which I know nothing; besides, other than that nothingness, such as the rain soddened sea-ferry crossing from Ullapool to Stornoway, I have few images for them to draw upon, other than the mountaintop at 3776.
Proserpine Proserpine Your words I find In the midnight mind Searching for a piece of kind A solitary recitation Escape to meditation Walking on sands of sedimentation From the galleries of sensation
I did not care for the house, I thought it too small, inside and out; no, no it was not a place which I wanted to move to.Neither did I care for the fact that my partner had cooked up a deal with her father to buy the house, then to let her rent it at a reduced rate, with an option, eventually, to buy it.So when the family moved in I did not; instead I took my own place, a cold cold one bedroom winter-let, out across the river, on the Bere Peninsula.The foreword could end there, if I could trust you to understand the failings of the human psyche, which leads on to failed relationships.But I will go on, not that I don't trust you, not that I wouldn't care to read your suggested interpretations.I will go on, so that you have a few more facts from my perspective to play with; a few more sides for you to take, a few more gaps for you to wander through.She was hereSo very nearHer image clearThen she's gone, gone amongShe sees youSo very trueYour life is her lifeThen you're gone, you've gone amongThe children grew togetherAnd they grew apartThen it stopped foreverUnspoken broken heartsSeeing was believingBelieving the feelings disturbedFeelings, ceilings, broken openSpace, place, beings, being observedThe adults pulled togetherThen they pulled apartDreaming of living foreverThen breaking already broken heartsTravelling for everTravelling to nowhereThe destination becoming clearApproaching here, approaching anonymityTouch is the insurmountable costItself lost in numbness, itself lost in fearGuiding hands, comfort hugs, buried with the victimsNothings left, only the emptiness is clearTranquility was a passing moment Sensuality was a moment missed Rebirth brought salvationHope eternal sprang around them everywhereThe kiss everyone rememberedThe missing memory of blissThe family tribe dismemberedThe story is mine through remiss
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