Wednesday, February 04, 2015

The Man Who Lost His Story


Daylight commuting at last, at last I can see the world once more, for what it is, and what it holds. It has been getting lighter every day, just slightly, but today it feels like it is light, like someone has already switch the days light bulb on. It just a feeling and nice one at that.


I sit cosily on the train, and watch the world sail by. I like the train so much, I don’t know why but even as a car driving lover I prefer to travel by train.


Perhaps it is the looking into peoples back gardens, whilst I sit there, my mind spinning randomly until I give it something to do.


Something to focus the mind on. I was wrong, in my last post, I just opened my mouth to earlier, the link, the story, the infinite randomness is all here. All in detail, just when you no longer expected it. Perhaps the story is about to self implode, perhaps I became misguided there for a moment.


And that when The Man Who Lost His Story told his story. And this is where the pages spin, the words blurr, the meaning vanishes and the wisdom entails throughout the odyssey of the stories of stories which develop inside the stories. In no doubt the bees were there to just distract us, to keep is from realising where this will all end.


It is however time to get off and do some real work in the real world.

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