Frothy Thoughts, Restlessness Itself. Two
They are the sensuous subjects to frothy, edgy, sub-boiling, temperate shifts, speedy ins and languid outs; they are the elements of thought quantum broth — the minute chops, smidgens of energy, popping up here and there; appearing Above — ducking Under — never steady At. In that, they are fidgeting incessantly on and off throughout a transcendence zone; in doing so, they are itching and rasping the consciousness non-stop, casting shades of the murky voices which consistently fail to express the fuzzy urges; they are moans of dull whims, tremors of restlessness occasionally climaxing in decisive shake-ups.
Some of them are forming into the memories; but not quite so. They are rather quasi-memories, memories-in-formation, like anything that is brooding, budding — not-quite-blown-in-full something. They are projections, skeletons, perspectives for the future memories that have already being distorted by onset of corrupt ageing, overlapping with fantasies based upon pools of the past unrealized wishes.
They are the memories about your future memories of your distant past. They are entangled time-series loops, gnawing and trying hopelessly to hook up the real and existing with the surreal, the imaginary that is yet null and void, all the while traveling back and forth across the time spans.
Such are they — the stuff under fermentation, the messy, stinky whole being held together with the assistance of mental yeast … They are the content, the load of the bio-chemico-logical reactor, the stuff that’s been already partially gone through the recipe of predetermined transformations. There’s no way back, there’s no force to stop this cocktail from further brooding.
No stopping to that teleological force propelling the whole load to the vague, uncertain climax.
It is astonishing though that The Crystal Clear Thoughts are borne from this broth by the Most Powerful Recycling Machine in the Known Universe. It is designed and destined to re-order the Chaos.