"But that's what there was,
just a loaf of moldy bread."
Oh, damnation, maybe I'll have to figure
this one out with my years of dreaming
and analytical experience as my guide.
It is interesting to note, though, that I have been
thinking a lot, and it's important to emphasize:
A LOT,
about excess and possessions and uselessness,
and I think we're at one of those spots ripe for
a full stop.
Bread only can go moldy, truly, if you have so
much
in terms of other food that you can't quite get
to it
in time, and so it reminds you of your excess
by its
very natural way of growing green life on it.
But we think of life as a possession. Maybe we
think of it, sometimes, like a loaf of bread, on
the top shelf of our refrigerator, radiating its
existence to the world, when in fact, because
of sloth and inertia and excess and whatnot,
our existence is not radiating, really at all.
If it is radiating, it is only because moldy
is a support of a certain kind of life that
is actually, slowly, eating away at your
own. It causes your life to be useless
to you and everyone around you, so
you radiate, not a superb existence
or magnificence, but rather more
like a smell--a truly foul kind of
smell it is, too. Leaving bread
leaves you with a useless pile
of possessed excess, doesn't
it? Resolve has taken hold
of me recently, if only for
illustrating the freedom
of consciousness to be
in a whole new way,
and I resolve from
now on to use the
things I buy and
buy less, so as
to avoid the
pitfalls of
excess.
Language that has no heft
finds no echo in its listener.
No comments:
Post a Comment