Not One Iota
Not One Iota
by John Bennett
Waiting on the food. Waiting on the verdict. Waiting on the bells to stop ringing, reality to stop bleeding, the yarn to unravel, hesitation to burn off like mist, the train wreck of well-laid plans, the ink to run out in my ballpoint and then what? Chisel and stone? A telegrapher’s dit-dot nightmare?
I have not changed one iota since I first looked in the mirror and saw myself, only this body I’m trapped in knows the degradation of time.
i feel the tension. Life is about tension, it would seem. i know we’re supposed to learn from experience, roll with the punches, and see hardships in a new light but sometimes we revert to our default ‘avoid pain, seek pleasure’ mindset. It can be a way of life too. Hope is painful. I think this piece illustrates that very poignantly. Nice pic, by the way. Isn’t it just human nature to crumble under the stress and burden of trying so much and just say ‘To Hell with it! destruction and mayhem! Devil take it all!’ Maybe the way things are supposed to be and will end in any case is total obliteration. Is it nature? Or is it merely that all human activity goes outside and against nature because we don’t understand the fabric of the universe? You decide. Get back with me. Then i’ll buy the beer.