literature

Mutterings of a Confusionite

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pachunka's avatar
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Literature Text

How easy it is to get lost in the elegance of a warm,
spring day's lie in the parky grass. Even the birds are just
sitting back.

        Grass has a tendency to tickle away worry and the
false walls of clashing emotions and meaningless trials to
find out who gets put in charge of what. Like any of us is
any good at anything.

        Windy air and warm yellow photons. Tastes like love.

        Meanwhile, it's all spinning and gliding through space,
so that we can all enjoy it again another day.

        I just wonder where the hell it is we're going.
Ah, categorisation.

I belted this down along with 3 other similar pages the other night (looks big in the notebook).

Might submit the others as scraps, but I was kinda fond of this one.

Don't know if I'm interested in ctiticism- I'm experimenting with sentence fragments a tiny bit, I'm slightly curious as to what reaction they get.

There aren't too many levels to this, but they're there.

Enjoy't. :)

--

It just occurred to me that this might be good for 'plicity's next release, but I've thought about it and declined. This isn't what it would be if I had been writing it for 'plicity.

--

Also at least one line of this reminds me of something of Mark's very specifically, so if it's ripped directly and I'm not spotting well- there it is.
© 2004 - 2024 pachunka
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technodepth's avatar
How very true :) There's nothing like a warm day lying on the grass to sort out yer troubles....

8)