Sunday 8 March 2015

TUMBULAR 20

Demons led me to the highest precipice and commanded me to look down.  I noticed that I still had my computer with me, and had gathered a selection of chapters, put them in order and made them available as a manuscript.  It made me dizzy to look down, but I felt secure, very secure on my ledge, as if the computer formed a barrier between me and the chasm opening up beneath the precipice.

I had so much to write about, so many notebook scraps to gather and put them all together,

All of my words were the resolution of my life's work.  As long as I had them together, I could feel that everything was in order.  I fretted not.  Whether I was still in the infantry stage or not didn't matter to me.  I had no argument with anyone.

I was on the wall face of the mountain and yet somehow I was kept safe.  Angels must have guided me.  The pieces somehow came together and made sense, although by rights they shouldn't have.

My book had come together.  All had been won.  If I froze here the loss would still be minimal, at least it seemed to my intoxicated mind, at the time.  I was very intoxicated at this time.










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Cultural barriers to objectivity