Monday 19 April 2021

And maybe that is what

 'words' 'writing' ..'reading' is for....having read and bullshit radio4 heard so many overclaimed versions of what even reading is 'for' ...for so many years.

"we read to know we are not alone.." pious bullshit. 

Slowing down to write - just then, that we are, as se so chimed with me through the widening gap, as she was taken off down the street. I cried for the first time in a year or more. 

 And somehow describing then bridge between nothing real and lots of things actually real, is the task at hand. Somehow.... well it shouldn't be too hard in truth. Because every moment is chronicled. I only chronicle alive things. Having done years of the fake-'alive'. 

It was planned sort of as a societal responsibility last summer to cheer some up.... but then even more impossible new life happened so i haven't had bloody time...but I do have the energy.  Real things - real smiling children, five gathered now! despite every attempt to undermine.... that gives an energy that cannot be atomised into something else ...ever.