20/05/2007

My Unborn Tapestry

The string unravels as I think upon it.

My train of thought is speeding down a path I thought impossible, hacking away at the tangled vines of my psyche like a jungle guide with a machette...

The putrid smell of old memories finds my nostrils, and I wretch for a second, but find my nerve again, and grip the string tighter.

I won't lose this everything again.

Watching myself become myself through everyone else's eyes will tear your soul apart, but your failures are your strengths and your existence a paradox, our celestial bodies intertwined with superstrings and spiderwebs of time and space all comforting and placating, and


THIS JUST DOES NOT REPLICATE WITH ITSELF.

It is merely the result of two totally independant and unrelated actions, an uncalculable formula of

consequence after

consequence after

consequence after

consequence after

consequence.


This string unravels as I think along it.


By Ben Jones

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