Impermanence

I considered writing this post in invisible ink to illustrate impermanence. I discarded that thought and it was instantly replaced by another thought, which I cannot remember. Now where was I? Who am I? What am I doing?

The Rose I was 5 minutes ago no longer exists. She was the one who thought that writing this post was impossible right now, she was exhausted. The Rose that is here, oops she’s gone, darn! This is like trying to hug a greased pig while attempting to apply its lipstick.

Impermanence may be the only reality, a slippery sucker that sinks like quicksand and transverses the surface like one of those people moving sidewalks. It also constantly appears like a huge comedic powder puff that binks the tip of my nose, slides through my invisible head only to reappear on what appears to be the other side.

A sugar cube dissolving on my tongue, a pat of butter melting and evaporating in a Teflon coated pan, the changing forms of clouds and bodies, I am sitting here then sitting there then standing still then walking then lying down. Ah, lying down! That exhausted Rose missing a train of thought that never left the station in the first place.

The ego existing bumping into love bouncing out of love, anger metamorphosizing into compassion, then into forgiveness. Feeling good, feeling bad, what am I feeling?
How can I grab what doesn’t exist?

Gingerly surviving delicate softness the form is baked only to be blown up in the kiln. Rising soufflés caving in a cloud of steam, road rash on a shiny brand new bumper. A new baby girl in a stroller is being pushed toward a hundred year old woman in a wheelchair.

I know what I’m doing, I don’t know what I’m doing, I know exactly when, but can’t keep track of time. Time is a construct and time is a deadline. The deadline is the flat line and it’s all a dream anyway. Who wrote this movie and who directs it? The actors are running amok losing touch with reality as they fulfill a multitude of roles.

The concepts stated in this post no longer exist.

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