"Stakeland" lingered in dream
but no vampires or berserkers; instead
wandering through neighborhoods and
over rooftops, faint piano music and
hopeful apocalypse, melting to
rawr of chainsaws cutting the old
oaks in the field. Let it be just
for the health of the tree, not
to clear a view.
now the field is littered
with branches, feed for the goats
who love their oak leaves and nettles
love something thorny
you put an ambient track
on the iPod, slowing down,
measuring out heart beats
this winter's mostly lacking
in social stimulation
a lot, going out only
to walk in the woods,
sit in a cafe, or buy
groceries; work at home
--the telecommuter's down-
at heel condition, bit of
a joke, a cartoon.
Could easily stir things up
but it comes soon enough that
mental weather without my bidding
Random lines from online:
We are entering a logical blizzard he says. For a time, we will be unable to see anything in front of our eyes. For a time, we will feel quite lost, quite wretched.
But then, he says, we will come to the eye of the storm, the logical storm, he says. Everything will become clear, he says. Everything will become still.
Logic: do we understand how terribly calm logic is, the heart of logic? Do we understand that true peace is really logical peace?
---Lars Iyer, "Wittgenstein, Jr."