Colleen – Carry Cot
I’m living now like the steam pouring from my mug. Doing a quick dance and disappearing. But it’s no ritual.
Rituals now are a broken link to the past, they don’t seem to bring to mind much but movies I’d seen a bit back.
A ritual is built on meaning, a significance, but when that’s lost, what is the reason behind it? is this the ghost of meaning? a photograph taken long ago?
Does meaning disappear as quickly as steam?
Today I imagined people from my past showing up at my place of work. They ridiculed me, but I’m not sure why. Perhaps I had upset them, but I think most of them have forgotten me by now. Or perhaps I am just an extra in a dream they don’t remember upon waking.
Or for a moment they remember a man in the back dancing quickly.
image: tim166
Seasinks
acraein 
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