What is the point? There is no point, we are dust and will return to dust in the winds of time, we are at the “still point”. My Ba Hons degree discovered, talked and touched upon this, something I did not understand at the time and which others quite happily overlooked, perhaps because they needed to because of their misunderstanding, or perhaps their own eloquent intrusive misdirections, a play by ear, or a catastrophic inquiry into craft, such are susceptible to misdirection. But now I am beginning to understand through contemplation, through defiance. at the still point: you are governed by rules and tick-able boxes aren’t you, you feel empowered to have a beautiful three dimensional substance but surely beauty is in the whole idea.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, bullshit, this is a democratic belief which excuses you of mis- understanding the purpose and pure and simple fact that you do not understand the forces in play surrounding you; this was not made for you, this is a vessel for me to understand me, my surroundings and beliefs, you are merely passing through my time, you are merely a bystander, you are not even the catalyst for this procedure and predicament. We carry on our walk through the deep and dark orrifices of the plant, the fear grips me again, walking into the uncharted, Chris says i haven’t been here before, or at least accompanied. I can feel something is not quite right in this room. and I later learn that a certain number of arms have been removed from bodies by belts which drive the unstoppable machines and I can smell and taste it. Yeah it ain’t cool, the spirits are angry here, Ollie you have to make a bell to drive them away, and i think,”we need a drum to aid the spirits across into their world”, and right around the corner is a drum kit, coincidence? You have to draw the line somewhere however this isn’t the time or place, many years will succeed us all, drone on as you wish, the world is no longer that safe and subtle place, you are no longer alone, yet you are far from being surrounded, which would you choose? The answer is clear here, is it clear there? What does the world you weave have to offer, are you strong enough for the ultimate answer, sadly not, as the answer isn’t here as you haven’t asked the question, and how far does the hole go? Yes a hole that travels deep into uncertainty, a hole that never relinquishes, never, never, never fold. But what is in a question, what is the point, is there really a still point? Fundamentally you will cower, you hope for the best, you hope for a rounded outcome, an outcome which object and words form a distinct picture, the room is dark and I have a choice left or right, how would you choose? I flipped a coin, very simple one or the other, left or right, loose and fail or what win? Win is in which context, accomplishment, an answer? Sounds like you took the easy option, you knew the outcome before you started, front of the queue for you, boxes ticked, nice life, bollocks. Boring, why are you here, who are you here for? Quite obviously not yourself, back of the queue of humanity for me then. Or maybe you've been working towards this outcome for years upon years, and then why are you here? We walk left through the very dark door, you cannot see any light in there, its far from the comfort zone for the familiar faint hearted, only the strong, only the brave rings out in my overwhelmed brain, do it a voice tells me, the sweat is pouring again and it is pure fear, the purest of them all, the floor creeks, its rusted, they tell me bats live here, do it, don’t be afraid our bell will protect us, believe, believe.
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