Lately I've felt bad about killing things. I'm supposedly growing a conscience. I don't particularly like it. With it, I have lost what little faith I've ever had in a god, which makes life, as you say, Random. Accidental. Fluke-ish. Which makes it even more precious, since we only get it once, in whatever form it comes.
But it makes the sunset no less glorious.
I really loved that part. I've often felt that happenstance is a much more beautiful concept than fate.
To look back at the probability of ending up in one moment; as opposed to that moment waiting for you to finally arrive....I don't know. I feel as if the first one is something to be cherished more, once we realize the frailty of our respective existences.
I also love how the spider cannot forgive you.
The question that is begged is would the spider forgive you?
Maybe therein lies the origin of vicarious atonement and this need to know that our bad deeds are forgiven; even by those who have left us.
A lot of interesting concepts just bursting out of this one, I'd say.
And very enjoyable as well.
But the whole paragraph below could probably be summed up by one onomatopoeic exclamation. And it's both a glorious whoop and rush of wind and a howl. The wind howls too I suppose. (In that last sentence. Should there be commas? The too...) And actually that's perfect: there's a rush of sensation, a beautiful setting, undercut by a feeling that something is not quite right with the whole thing. The main character, breaking down and sobbing because all this beauty and safety and strange freedom has led to some irreversible disconnect with what we feel inside our chest, involuntarily. Except, they aren't breaking down and sobbing. They don't even feel it that much any more. They just feel it. It kills slowly.
And it strikes me that maybe this is the reason for the American obsession with zombies.
But I digress. I see so much in this. It's simply stated and beautifully crafted.
Your visuals are beautiful. This reminds me of when I was 11 when I used my new shotgun to track and shoot a small bird flying by. I just wanted to see if I could and immediately I felt discomfort that I had killed this wonderful little bird. Your work always relates, makes me think, and puts me in a good place. Thanks. - Jim
So your survival instinct takes over your objectified manifest. This reminds me of my dead cow in the dessert crone analogy. I mean you'd think those cows would be angry, it's a miracle to me they don't all have "Mad Cow disease". Further we're all guilty of performing many subconscious acts inadvertently, almost autonomously. we feel a challenge the healthy among us respond with aggression. Who knows how many dreams of assimilation we crush with every fall of our feet as we walk on. Can we be held responsible for this squalor, much less for the expressions of our higher being as it attempts to ascend to the spiritual sky. So many gnarly discrepancies averted like so many bats in our halo looking to eat a mosquito or two. Does this really need to be set right
At this point I feel it necessary to say perhaps I don't really understand this piece at all.
Nonetheless I do not depend on random luck at this point, but instead on forethought and planing. Personally I say let those brown wolf-spiders beware, I won't be feeling guilty.....
almost wanted to read "presence" in the first line....and the repetition of "right" threw me off in that line...although i see the double meaning usage...just felt awkward. "this pounding beneath" verse is sensational...what intricately woven wording there.
and this idea...everything happens for a reason...no real accidents...no consequences of consequences without purpose...everything happens for a reason.
i hope maybe the wolf spider forgave you right at the end.