Raspberry Fool

How strange that I now seem to shun the sun, seeking refuge in the shade as soon as I step outside. What age did that start happening?  I seem to have missed that start of my own life event, maybe I realised but forgot, another sign of being passed the equator of life.

Why am I so suddenly attracted to the soft lime colour?  I've never life green in my life, beautiful in nature yes, but to wear or slather all over the house, no. 

I blame meditation of my life crisis predicament.  Blissful detachment from stress and anxiety, floating around in a quiet universe of bliss seems to have revealed the fact that infinite crossroads in life exist.

Wonderful as that revelation may seem, I find myself caught in stasis, not moving down any path of infinity and merely standing and blinking at all the possibilities on offer.

I guess that's why most people fill every minute with constant plugin to social media, their children's never ending clubs, wall to wall soap operas, celebrity magazine, filling every possible second to avoid looking at a void of stillness.

I cannot understand why people need to share every mundane fact on social media, life changing events, celebrations, hell even holiday pics and growing children.  But cutting the lawn,pulling weeds, "I cleaned my sink", come on really?

If there's a further story related like 'while cleaning my sink today, the cold tap started relaying a signal from the space station.  I could hear the astronauts requesting more supplies of freeze dried chicken supreme and reporting a sighting of a strange object in the shape of an Armadillo riding a horse floating near the moon.' Now that's worth posting, we could all revel at the flood of artist impressions of possible aliens that may have already invaded earth.

The fact that Jeffrey, one of the longest serving stationers is floating sheepishly biting his bottom lip, wondering whether to fess up that the unidentified floating object was launched by him two days before, it's shape, well you try eating space food for a year and see what emerges.

Blue sky, pale golden light, mosquitoes dancing in viscous air pretending indifference, yet pirouetting ever closer.  My quiet solitude suddenly shattered by a train thundering past focused solely on its destination, punching unyielding atmosphere into submission.

Distant voices invade this tiny space around me, oppressive yet comforting.  I hear murmurings of words, yet don't hear by choice, I unfocus my mind from language.

I listen instead to the even' call of the birds, wondering of their conversations about the day that is passing.  Heroic tussles with worms and beetles, warm breezes that lifted them higher than ever before, terror as they passed too closely to the rookery.  Pure joy as they soared and for one brief moment, closed their eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces, feeling pure exhilaration and weightlessness.

I am here in this space not because of enforced occupation but by choice.  Here I feel safe, solitude heals.  To walk amongst others, to read their faces, to speak mundane uttering's, knowing the words are fake, an act of self projection seems utterly pointless.  I know them without asking a question, I feel no need to re-enforce their delusion.

I am simply a virtual writer, I do not exist as that type of entity.  I write with nothing on the page.

I confess as a virtual artist, I paint pictures in my mind that defy time, see colours that do no exist in this dimension, compositions that fill my eyes with warm tears of pride and emotion, express everything that I find beautiful and sad, those images connect the synapses in my mind that let me feel at least remotely connected with life.  Yet my eyes focus back on the canvas that is untouched by form and colour.