The Counsellor

January 29, 2009 at 6:02 pm | Posted in memoirs, writing | 12 Comments

Sorry, I am not wanting to make sureties of this headache nor partake in overtly transactionalist type behaviour modifications. I do believe, however, that when all is said and done it is better for me to invent my own syntactical arrangements then to indulge in such misinformers as ‘when all is said and done’ when such a thing is not only untrue, there is still absence, but also to be dreaded that end time when backlooking all one sees is children playing marbles and forward stretches this vast cold reach of lifeless black awaiting. Sorry, it is wrong of me of course to call this writing in any but the broadest sense, more the arrangement of curves and axes, axies, axis (plural). Something to do. Something to do.  Comfort in the smallest motion of the fingers guiding the pen whilst the wrist drags across the paper like a cosmological bulldozer flattening urban space, clearing it for a delicate reconstruction through sound, a sonicscape to be erectified here. Has he left again? By all accounts the libraries are ledgers neatly divided into profit and loss, fiction and factions and none but fools do claim to know the difference. Where is she? Where is she? The sounds of that mere movement of air over his tongue and through his shattered teeth. He knows where she is, six feet deep down swimming with the fishies, limpid pools her eyes, the fright has left them now at least. Something to do, lift this breath and let it go and then again, keep a journal said the gnome but all that came was apologies, to the pen, to the paper, to the words themselves for their misuse, misusings, musings. Make a note each time the I becomes a he again, he’ld said, and then you’ll know to look for that from which you hide. I hide from fishy fish he said, from being. I am not being, I am not a being in her absence, her absence is my being.

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12 Comments »

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  1. Me thinks, Paul is bored today, Me thinks.

  2. This piece has brought tears to my eyes, dont know why…

  3. I feel sad too. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the passage of time and of those I’ve lost and yet to lose. I am also not a being when I think of the absence of some…

  4. towards life and loss. urbian space flattened fishes six feet under. teeth shattered apologies, the sound of it, creaking like a roof under the weight of water, from heavy rain and followed by dissolution, a basic commonality known to all revealed anew inside this sonicscape. piercing, and mysteriously united inverse thought and feeling, thank you. (with sincere sympathy. xx

  5. This had a kinf of a ghost town feel, a feel of empty buildings where once there was joy and laughter and now hyst memories..

  6. … sorat haunting I agree with Crushed – especially, ‘ her absece is my being’… *shiver* I think I know people like that.

  7. this is massive, paul, and this line in particular bulldozed its way through my mind:

    Comfort in the smallest motion of the fingers guiding the pen whilst the wrist drags across the paper like a cosmological bulldozer flattening urban space, clearing it for a delicate reconstruction through sound, a sonicscape to be erectified here.

    and this line too is perfect:

    By all accounts the libraries are ledgers neatly divided into profit and loss, fiction and factions and none but fools do claim to know the difference.

    in fact i am going to add this quote of yours now on my latest post on my blog…

  8. hi paul… yeah, what noah sed.. well, sorta… in the beginning it seemed so but as you wandered thru your thoughts they somehow gathered traction as an ocean current… as a tide, coming and going… i can imagine this immeasureable universal library with shelves and shelves of souls written on paper exposed by thoughts.. the apology thingee, now that was interesting… then again maybe you just had time on your hands with a fountain pen longing for action… always a stretch to consider the author’s thoughts, it is the attraction of stretching, push and pull in a 24 hr day, yes/no.. a most enjoyable journey,

  9. Paul, today you found a post of mine that wasn’t to be found! I was a guest author on a blog of a buddy so yes… Bryan and She Who Loves Medication do have some interesting friends, but I assure you I am not an ordained minister. 🙂 Though my parents are equally as accepting.

  10. Oh My goodness! All those big ‘I’s. There is something out of kilter but what an amazing resonance it has. This is fabulous and dark… edge of madness stuff. Love it.

  11. “When the I becomes a he again” Oh yes been there, eerie, ooo… I change it back forcibly, change them all back to she 🙂

  12. what a piece. there’s so many things said and unsaid here. so many beautiful moments and directions. from the sentence about libraries and ledgers and on, the piece really caught momentum for me. i love the mentions of the she and he, the movement of the breath, the fear and voids, and that last sentence is just beautiful.


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