NOT UP UPON YOU,
RATHER AROUND, ALWAYS THERE, INCH WORM ING CLOSER AS GENERATIVE AS THE LAND YET BARREN IN ITS METHODICAL BREATH
IN THE BACKGROUND
THE SUBTLE NUDGING OF AN OCEAN
WITH THE RIGOROUS EFFICIENCY OF A SUDDEN STOP STANDSTILL
I DARE YOU.
WHEREAS DYLAN WOULD RAGE PLATH WOULD BECKON THOSE GODDAMN CLOCKS
ITS BEEN YEARS NOW
I CANT STOP
THOSE GOD DAMN CLOCKS
THE OBSOLETE CONSTANT
WELL, IT DID NOT
I have this guilty pleasure of watching the seconds of my life tick off, literally, across the face of a clock. Analogue time, digital just wouldn’t do it for me. There is an invocation of the macabre, the physical mechanism beating away with its little arms. I can’t remember how it started but it was predominantly a childhood indulgence. With every passing minute I would become more upset, and incite myself to continue a bit further, to reveal just how much more time could unwind. It wasn’t a hard thing to do; I would just focus my eyes and let my mind drift. A trance-like state.
It became like a test, a dare, just how much time could I let pass me by before things got urgent. I lost sleep over this. I never missed a deadline during high school, varsity, I always handed things in, on time. But I was caught in this depraved web of spite that led me to having to work through the night once I finally did stop staring at the clock. It may be a side effect of being a dreamer. Throughout my young life, the word ‘daydreamer’ was often used against me as an insult. Yet, I thought it rather romantic… Essential, in fact.
To view the Post-Digital 2014 II, click here.