It wasn�t until very recently that I stopped asking my self the age old question.
Is it half full, or half empty?
That�s a much longer story best left for some other time. I�m not sure for how long I will be able to maintain � or be allowed – this unusually clear mode of expression.
I patrol the perimeter for days on end. I work my way around and round and yes, round. I start where-ever my rather limited attention span finds itself. Typically, I notice an orange glow appear somewhere behind the conch shell and on some very basic nearly cerebral level, realize that its appearance must in some way be related to the subtle increase in temperature, which is directly relatable to my ability to deal with the submerged state of my rather humble existence � and a good thing. Making my way over in its general direction (you try and swim in a straight line with eyes facing everywhere but where you are going!) I try to avoid the steady stream of exasperating gurgling bubbles which for some puzzling purpose continuously emerge from a mysterious source inside a faded plastic castle, more last-century than I care to comment on.
To amuse myself on the way over, I take bets with myself, on which I will find first, the orange glow or the sudden curvaceous end of the world. I think I usually win. I can see it coming of course, the end of the world that is, but never the actual moment of impact. Things start stretching around me, instead of just somewhere to the side. They get all fat and chubby on my level, and stretch out into thin points of obscurity above and below, just before a nerve wrecking collision forces me to change direction yet again. This happens surprisingly often. Before long I have the nagging suspicion that I am where I have been before, but can never be absolutely sure – and this makes for even more frustration.
I hold on to the realisation, that – hey – what else is there?
I know there is something there, I want to go see what it is, I must just find a way
of getting around the dam(n) end of the world.
link
Fleeting thoughts of an relatively enlightened yet utterly bored goldfish
It wasn�t until very recently that I stopped asking my self the age old question.
Is it half full, or half empty?
That�s a much longer story best left for some other time. I�m not sure for how long I will be able to maintain � or be allowed – this unusually clear mode of expression.
I patrol the perimeter for days on end. I work my way around and round and yes, round. I start where-ever my rather limited attention span finds itself. Typically, I notice an orange glow appear somewhere behind the conch shell and on some very basic nearly cerebral level, realize that its appearance must in some way be related to the subtle increase in temperature, which is directly relatable to my ability to deal with the submerged state of my rather humble existence � and a good thing. Making my way over in its general direction (you try and swim in a straight line with eyes facing everywhere but where you are going!) I try to avoid the steady stream of exasperating gurgling bubbles which for some puzzling purpose continuously emerge from a mysterious source inside a faded plastic castle, more last-century than I care to comment on.
To amuse myself on the way over, I take bets with myself, on which I will find first, the orange glow or the sudden curvaceous end of the world. I think I usually win. I can see it coming of course, the end of the world that is, but never the actual moment of impact. Things start stretching around me, instead of just somewhere to the side. They get all fat and chubby on my level, and stretch out into thin points of obscurity above and below, just before a nerve wrecking collision forces me to change direction yet again. This happens surprisingly often. Before long I have the nagging suspicion that I am where I have been before, but can never be absolutely sure – and this makes for even more frustration.
I hold on to the realisation, that – hey – what else is there?
I know there is something there, I want to go see what it is, I must just find a way
of getting around the dam(n) end of the world.
link