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Monday, September 21, 2009

Stream of consciousness

It's funny how you can sit here and think about the exigencies of your life. It's funny how words will come streaming into your head, proceed to leave as soon as they'd arrived, and you smile, none the wiser or more perturbed. It's funny, not in the general sense of the word, but more in the sense of pleasingly peculiar. The element of a subcutaneous, almost, layer of humor leaves much of life to be enjoyed, as a joke. Always bubbling below the surface, it's any wonder how you seem to lose sight of its existence every now and then. It becomes the once-in-a-while relief that you often subconsciously return to. Then again, there are times when you seek it out, much like you seek out a suitable picnic spot in a dense, yet deathly quiet pine forest; with purpose. And, much like the picnic, the words decide to stay for as long as their heart desires. Every now and then, however, their heart has no say in the matter because your world happens to be an overlap, a combined creation of a singular world; a brief amalgam of existences intertwined in time and space. Then, you're at the mercy of this group of existences as far as your own stream of consciousness is concerned. Still, and depending on your willingness, pausing the activities of your collective roving mind until the next time you can piece together enough moments conducive to reveling in this droll, conscious reverie, is not the most difficult thing for you to do. You create a refuge on demand, a secret place where you can hide. Where you take yourself and view life, both in general and yours specifically, with comic-serious spectacles. Seeing the irony in everything, including irony itself, you smile. And you begin to think about how the words streaming into your head, the very ones you were just thinking of, leave you smiling...none the wiser, or more perturbed.

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