It could've been a scene straight out of a movie. Chances are you've seen it, probably more than once. They say that there are only three stories, told and retold with little variations. I'm not sure who they are or when or why they said such a thing, and that's sort of the problem with undefined pronouns. It's the way english is these days, though, undefined and vague. it's all a matter of context--if you know the details, the stories will fill themselves in. Without context I might as well just be another random blogger rambling through the wastes of the internet.
if it is, in fact, one of the three dominant stories, then we can begin to understand that it is told and retold because it is a true story, one that resonates with all of us on some level. Maybe it's a story we've all lived or seen someone else live, but we know that it is as it is because it is, somewhere, somehow it is telling out in the lives we witness firsthand.
It could be showing on a movie screen right now, but it certainly hasn't played itself out yet. Intermission? Is it just the subplot from a much bigger picture (maybe one who's finale has just passed and now winds down to conclusion), or is it the exposition building to something of it's own climax.
I always said it was the sort of thing i'd not be involved with. I've said such things in the past, never's and no's and not me's, and turned around to watch myself exactly where I thought not to be. Maybe I ought not draw lines, less I find myself pulled across by gravity, one who's laws you cannot contradict short of softening the inevitable blow.
I know this: this week, words flow through my fingers. My guitar sings each day now. Last week these did not happen, nor the week before and even the week before. Things now are different, late things, as if they now realize how they always should have been. I dont know if it is, in fact, how they will be, and I can begin to imagine a million could be's. Happy endings aren't always as they seem, because they very nature of overcoming conflict leaves one part overcome. the question at the heart of it all, the very question which every story sets out to tell, is which part will overcome and which will be overcome.
Close, tactile. Closer, each time. you know, I know. Which part is the make believe? Will it sieve through my hands? Spin one way first, the other way next, come back. Closest, or is it just closer still?
I can see what it could be's. Is simplicity best, or simply the easiest?
1 comment:
Who is it? :)
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