What are you doing in the closet Peter? Just fixing the light Aunt May. Lik everything else that happens imperceptibly summer has. No longer in the street the short sleeved shirts look wrong. No more the clouds now flying clouds. Now it is because it is now. Somehow the grass is simply pushing up fom the base. Becoming newer. Becoming fresher with every passing moment. Tha falling dust of autumn has gathered itself into the soil and is no longer. A cleansing wind is to blame for so much. The Post Office was waiting. It was waiting to be clear of old ladies. These are the society that people are working to slot into. I didn't come to your last evening because you didn't invite me. Well, I'm having another one on the nineteenth. Why don't you come long. What's it for this time. Well, last time we raised a hundred and fourteen pounds. So I'm invited to the next one am I. It's on the nineteenth at my house again. When's that. Do try to come won't you. As the waiting Post Office cleared. Cleared its throat. Cleared out the passages. Expelling old lkadies like influenza on a cloudy night. I came to see you and it was your birthday. And you were all there. And the sun was shining. Now I know what I had to do, and you know what I had to do, so why did it all take so long. Is it me or you or the place or everything. Why are you unable to tell your dog to stop barking? Why are so many people so unable. It is a small and irritating dog. I can smile at it but nothing I can ever do will make me like it. So befoe it was clear and simple and fast, and after it was slow and cloudy and confused and not at all pleasant. It was just one of those things. I think it is you and the place that drains me now. You bore me. The talk. All of nothing. A space between. To make a space and allow it to go. A space can never be filled. There is a move in me to allow it all to fall. You were good company until you switched off. You ran out of material to exploit. You were left with nothing. You shout loudly about yourself and yet are left with nothing. I can see how another will soon be short in that way. If it becomes boring there is nothing left to save. Allow it. Allow it to go. I was wondering how long it all takes before it becomes boring. Not so long as you might think. That is really where all the problems start from. There is interest and then there is no interest. And that is being nothing really there beneath the cornflakes and coffee mugs.
Unexpectedly the rain has come which was not before.Here it is. Here it is now. Nothing but that. Faces are faces. There is nothing here but faces. All to flow. Cases and cases. Here it stands and flows today and tomorrow. Space. Space and the people that fill it. Full spaces. Full empty spaces. Cases and cases. It is like milk crates. Bright colours define empty places more fully. Walking across the carpeted floor there is nothing left that could possibly surprise. Nothing here at all. Even before I really thought I knew it had to be I knew it had to be. There is no surprise in that in a place that has been carpeted. Here on mahogony. Once you were pine. Now you glow and red and cover tomorrow with all those things. Polish and bruise. Again the small flow starts. Balancing on the table is a small face attached, one presumes to a small body. The space was empty, fill the next. You should be leather but instead it is empty. It is always. It is space again. And so the space. More hostile than need be. Survival of the most excessive. New room, new people. Colour changes all that happens. It flows and finally it doesn't flow. It is not selection it is sense. Confused emptiness because it is fully understood.
If you could fly in grey you too would have flown a long way away. It was not planned but really that is all. Another picture for you and you immediately become aggressive. You will talk about peace and calm and non-violence all day and try to destroy me if I have another picture. I haven't shown you that yet. Even in jest. You wouldn't see it anyway. Yes its gone. This impossible dream had prongs to hold on to. Spears to die with. Everybody said that it would be wrong even if it was your choice. But I think it has to be your choice, and that gives it all a harder edge than many could stand. It was what you want consider it best. If you wanted it or not, at this level you have the only responsibility for what you choose. So even if you didn't really want it, it is given to you.