A threesome of conversations in the master bedroom

[Sepia]

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Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
                                For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
                                Life is very long


- - TS Eliot, hollow men


When we are young we go between trials and tribulations, our ascent is the same as our descent in these years with pudgy soft fat fastened to our smiles as we learn that a mask is just that whether it is made from plastic, porcelain, skin or muscles. We were the bright dwarves when we were younger, becoming brighter demons as we fell into the years, the eternal trap we would build ourselves as we sang, as we tried to make sense of it all, masking the world in burlap and rope, trying to see what we always knew we could only feel.

Between the shadow and the light there is only the gray void of ambiguity, between the graveyard and its shifts we find ourselves working, toiling towards the daylight like vampires lost in minimum wage hell. Between the heart and the mind, the soul exists. Something elusive we all dream about but can never fully grasp, men wills till question it, more foolish men will try to answer it, beating themselves on their chests telling the world they found that which belongs inbetween everything, the hope in the cracks

of this world, governed by this spirit we hear is being found in all organized religions but we who know better turn around to see a different light as we try to find our own inbetween the rubble. Our emotions conflict, we become older with the question still anchored in our hearts and the conflict we so dearly wanted when we were still dwarves in the making, still doing the small time for small change as we do now. Inside the conflict, there is just us, standing inbetween mirrors in a hall, a carnivale is where we will find our souls

between the bearded woman and the worlds strongest man
between jp morgans lap and the wolfman
between the worlds thinnest man and his fattest counterpart
between the chef in his jacket and the men in white robes
between the redheads of this world and the blondes
between the vaudeville and the tragedy
between the architect and his art
between the director, his conscience and his paycheck
between the artist and the souls he collected
between the barman and the drink
between the dealer and the junkie
between the librarian and the library (twixt chaos and order)
between the expat and his understanding
between the kind and the naive
between the overworked and his free time
between the creativity of this world and the desire to never use it (realizing)
between the creativity of this world and the desire to use it (realizing)

between the forgotten and those who were never there, this is where the question churns as we stare at our unknown ceiling watching the light from cars passing by, listening to the drunks singing creep in the middle of the night, feeling sorry for themselves as they didn't manage to fill all their basic needs within a day for inbetween the sets changing on the stage, between the narrator and the director, between the glamour and the illusion we are still beasts in the same narrative and our hearts are caves and our minds yearn for mammoth meat and every man that ever beat his chest proclaiming the answer is left behind among the dwarves for the answer is as always non-important

There is nothing between the shadow and the light, there is no void, we are not angels fallen with understanding, we are monsters and will always do what monsters have done as we continue to walk between heaven and hell

[Cramulus]

I love this image of simultaneous ascent and descent

my friend talks about how precise he's getting, how good at his job, how good he is at managing interpersonal relationships, he's getting better all the time.

....and rounder and balder and crankier too


great piece, sepia

[Faust]

This is really beautiful and haunting, I wish I had something better to say about it but words fail me.

[Hoser McRhizzy]

... Between the shadow and the light there is only the gray void of ambiguity, between the graveyard and its shifts we find ourselves working, toiling towards the daylight like vampires lost in minimum wage hell.

Holy fuck.  This is beautiful.  The whole thing...

Looking forward to going back through this forum to find more of your writing.

[BadBeast]

I want to say how much I enjoy your writing, and that your talent always seems to leaves me in a place somewhere between awful reverence, and  slightly ashamed jealousy. But I've never really been one to get all gushy or fanstruck, so fuck that!. . . . . I dunno, you are obviously aware of how talented you are, and I'm not about to offer you any advice, (if only!) but I really do enjoy your posts. Many thanks.

*Goes back to rocking backwards and forwards, and envious muttering*
   
   

[Sepia]

http://www.tindeck.com/listen/lvxw

[Brotep]

TS Eliot, indeed.

"The way up and the way down are the same way."
--Heraclitus, by way of Eliot's Four Quartets


In this piece's end is its beginning.