ghosts & admissons

Consider me a safe bet

It’s becoming increasingly difficult for me to blog these days. I’m unemployed and have no access to a computer. I lounge around in the sun most mornings, grab a coffee, read a paper. Move from city to city to the point that I only remember the last address at which I rested my head so I can drunkenly tell a cab driver to grant me safe passage home. The market in Ottawa bathed in orange light, the cold vistas of Montréal, the anonymity that Toronto affords- the best of each destination.

I thought about the place I occupy in each of these cities. The fact that you could blow a molecule up to the size of St. Peters Basilica in Rome and its neutron will still only be the size of a grain of salt. So yeah, I literally meant the space I occupy. I’m not dense (in a physical sense) yet I don’t slip through cracks or walk through walls (again physically). The manipulation of empty space, packing space in and on top of each other towering vanity higher and higher. Trying to see between mitochondria and vacuoles only yields a distain for the mater that I can’t manipulate to my own desire.

If I can’t master that which isn’t there, then what mastery do I have over my own body? My skin is taunt, my guts in place, is this weak and unassuming frame only a delivery system or temporary store house for wayward molecules that haven’t yet begun to organize themselves in the harmonization of their own destiny?

posted by El Chupacabra @ 3:23 PM