Time and Utopias

(This is a twenty-minute writing exercise, drawing on discussions within the writing group and based around ideas from the Creative and Critical Writing MA.)

So this is happiness?  The culmination of life’s struggles and indignities, her tensions and inequalities.  The dualities and dichotomies stilled and subjugated, as in death – the vital current of life overflows.

I return to her womblike tomb, her tomblike womb and I am home.  Alive with the sublimation of all desire.

There is nothing left to need, nothing left to want – nothing strange or uncanny beetling incessantly and unsettlingly in my mind.

The union of opposites – the primal word – embraces my life and death as it embraces light and dark, male and female, right and wrong, all and nothing.

Death, with her feminine unpredictability disrupting the mechanic flow of automated life; no longer troubling to the troubled soul that ceases toiling and just breathes.

Breathe in – death.  Breathe out.

Come home to the absence that you most fear and most desire.

She sits, legs astride you, with darkness at her core.  She calls you, tempts you, desires you.  Her feminine absence is her disruptive presence.  Circling you.

A maddening crow, senseless with desire.  She haunts you.  Enfolding the shape of who you are, whispering into the spaces in between your every moment.

The shutter-stops of your biopic.  The blanks, and dreams, and dark pauses that punctuate your illusory linear life.

Breathe.  The spaces in between.  The pauses in the moments.  The moments between each moment.  The moments between the moments between each moment.  Infinity indivisible.

Is this the moment of the eternal now?

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