The Orion

I looked down, the metal is still 'rubbing it in' on the concrete. Street lamps spotlights failing to hold them captive in their periphery, their walls constantly being pierced by headlights that have hardly a regard for anything, they feel not the least need to pay glance anywhere but ahead. Not long since life happened in humid warm germination conducive environment on this loose rocky pebble, a collision's remnant, it has already created things like eyes and minds that cant help but see and search what is left of saner unassuming elementary forms like germs, bacillus, algae or vacillations between animate and inanimate- viruses, they were 'the life' that 'happed' and look what they since have deformed into. 'Sanity' however has lost its relevance here -there is hardly a frame of reference, not one to be seen on this rock to say the least-so has 'saying' and everything else, not to mention. Do we really know what sanity is? We cant recognize it for the prerequisite of that, a frame of reference as I said is missing. How will we embrace it when it finally downs on us as we are so blissfully ignorant, would we be sane enough to know it? It could well be that sanity has long passed us by or is there right before us, but our minds are not devices equipped enough to comprehend it. But then we don't really look for sanity, do we? We, instead, look for something that might fit conveniently into our idea of it. Much like God, whom we don't seek but instead lug aground this rigid shell for him and wait for a 'convenient' soul to walk into it. Many potential Gods before and after, in you, him or her, but no, for none fit the description in the prophecy, you know! Neither sanity nor God are for us to comprehend it seems, or is it that they are blatantly in our face, for what else could have kept it all from falling apart all this while.

On fourth floor, one of those days when I feel closer to The Orion who looks much more familiar than the things down there, up here and above. My gaze at The Orion has ever been but requited, but that's okay, I'm not quite in a mood to have a conversation myself. There from his stand point I guess its hard putting it down how we animate ones take ourselves so seriously. But than seriousness, thinking and everything else is relative too, notions originated and holding meaning on this rock and nowhere else, no wonder The Orion never cares to look back, he is hardly bothered and I couldn't agree more. He precedes this rock and everything ever happened here, including the the notion of wars and warriors, and will be there long after the rock has wound itself up, must amuse him that we address him as The Orion, The Warrior, Wars, Warriors, why? 'Amusement', 'thinking', 'rock', all 'our' notions, not his, but we cant get rid of them, right, not to mention 'precede', as time, the fourth dimension, again could well be an entity meaningful only to us. I look at him still as I wanna tell him what's it like being held prisoner on this rock where you don't have the right to remain silent. I wish, ...but I do, I was where he is, and could just think and sit and watch or not even do that and never say anything you know, bliss! I'm stuck,however, between The Orion and the metal. Or I'm the Orion but on the rock and I'm not allowed solitude and silence anymore, as you are not supposed to have them when you are on the rock. That's fine for earthlings, in general, but .. It could well be that The Orion has jettisoned me from that coveted adobe. I don't know but I yearn to get back. I'm sure I don't belong here. How could I possibly?

Listening to

Chopin Piano Sonata No.2