, , , , , , , ,




… I think; nothing’s solved, there is only fore-shortened outcome as the Mechanism rolls out its Procedure of Care trying to track down that ghost;

I am in ‘wither’ with the school I have worked in for the last twenty five years; every so often, and quite despite my unrelenting stubborness to continue on disregarded, I collapse; the most recent collapse was even more lost and frightened than I am used to and I don’t think I can platitude my way back out of this one (see obituary … if you have the stomach);

I thougt to cut down my activity to return myself to myself, but I couldn’t find him anywere, only the pain and lost-bearing which have haunted him all along anyway; I had a dream last night which I posted this morning – it feigns to hold the answer although I can’t quite breathe what it is yet; but then I had posted it, instinctively; so I gave myself a slap but my hand passed straight through: there is only the activity that makes any sense of the machine beng here in the first place; it is not wrong, but it is, after all, only levers and pivots; I must continue on acting, invisible and occasionally chain-rattling, otherwise all those girders and diagonals will look ridiculous standing there, windswept and wailing;

so maybe returning back to blogging is the first step to returning back to living … thank you so much to all the good voices that whispered over my shoulder ‘remember that we are here’, you all left an echo that I could navigate by





career & identity & teaching wormhole: dream 100213
ghosts wormhole: chrysalissing
listening wormhole: listening