Tuesday, 30 June 2015

Being Properly in Control.

I should preface this post with an explanation. It was written in the early hours of this morning after a few drinks, much soulful music, the usual wander in the wildwood of reflection, and the writing of a pointless email to the Lady B which seemed oddly necessary at the time. By the time I'd written it I was feeling too tired be sure what the hell I was talking about, so I saved it and promptly forgot it even existed. I just found it again, so I might as well post it (with a few minor edits) and then it can add its two penn'orth to the canon of JJ's literary achievements. And the explanation is nearly as long as the post. Isn't that ironic?

I sometimes watch videos on YouTube and envisage people in dance clubs giving themselves over to the mood of the moment. People in transparent ecstasy, caring not a jot what they look like to the outside world.

I could never do that. Part of me always had to remain apart, restraining the heart, pulling me up sharp if I overdid submission to the senseless senses. Ever the observer and the observed in one being.

Is that a shame? I wouldn’t know. I’m not qualified to judge.

And there’s a heavy, sweet scent in my living room. I wonder where it's coming from. Some ghost or other, I expect.

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