Monday, October 04, 2010

Grist for a Wasted Mill

Revolution II ~ from The Windmills of my Mind

“What do you mean?” she asked..
He showed her the diagrams: where arcs of discontent met tangents of lost hope; where equations and arcane symbology danced an awkward waltz on a dance floor of musical annotation.
“I don’t understand, how does this account for the darkness?”
He folded the diagrams and ripped them in two, “Things don’t always make literal sense,” he said, “sometimes the planes of abstract reason intersect with the illusion that we perceive as reality,” he tore the diagrams in half again, “these intersections are often perceived as emotion but are more accurately defined as tangible points of contact between the self and the world.”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit” she said, handing him the waste paper bin.


JeffScape said...

I love her.

human being said...

i understand that the trajectory of a waste(d) paper depends not on its distance from the bin... nor on the potential energy in a doubtful hand... but on the distance between a he and a she...

Pisces Iscariot said...

Jeff: You're too easy

Human Being: a distance held only in the mind ;]

Harlequin said...

there is message and there is code; this feels like code ..... and conveyed with such artistry!

Pisces Iscariot said...

Harlequin: I always enjoy watching pretensions being deflated :D