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[Random Ink Polaroid. #1] [Main Index] [The big black bag eating truck]
Monday, February 10, 2003
On a clear day you can see forever
Today the sun was rare and brave. I was meandering my way to work this morning, passing the time by making up new tunes in my head, or pretending I was on some sorry stage or another, and I was catching the sun in the spaces between the branches, and the sky was clear blue apart from the great ball of sun, and suddenly everything in nature neared a kind of ephemeral perfection, and I thought "this is no day to be working, my boy." So I didn't. I turned on my heels and headed in the opposite direction of the train station, and walked with easy gait along the tow-path that runs adjacent to the river, and the further along the tow-path I went, the quieter it got, and I carried on walking until the mad hub-hub of the city and train stations at rush hour was just a dot on the dot of a dot on the dot. I must have walked for an age, and still the sun shone, and I often stopped just to gaze at my reflection in the gently lolling waters, my body a distortion in the ripples, or I would stand completely still and listen to the silence, letting it wash all over me, and I thought about following the river to its actual source, then I thought, better still, I could follow the sun, feed off it, pick oranges in Greece, apples in Soweto, grapes in Australasia. I could live off the earth, sleep under canvas in lay-bys and banana groves. I could you know.... So today I proclaim the sun to be my hero, for giving me life and possibility and the good bits inbetween.
Posted by paul
Replies: 3! Woo!
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