Ordinary

I was sitting on a bus staring blankly when it came to me: the word ordinary.  Ordinary.  Ordinary!  As though it were an insight.  How ordinary  … Nothing here is special, nothing is unique, nothing individual - This is just a bus journey – everyone takes it … The feeling of used-ness that the seats seemed soaked in, of life obliterated by the anonymity of sharing space with people who (frankly) one would never want to share space with, repetitive, quotidian, the cheapness of it, the human attention in these circumstances at its lowest ebb.  I felt like a chicken in a coop.  (If only I were rich!)

But slow this down …  it seems a good example of something; and this is that it shows us the process of Linear Thought.

What is needed is a Witch’s Broom.  Let’s sweep it away.

Opposites that are perpetual, symmetries that are eternal -

Where the good implies … the bad; the left the right

Where the right implies the wrong; and up down;

Like the carpet in a waiting-room, the carpet of the very every-where: it is worn, stained, tasteless, used.  Tarr-y olive-green patterned - and seems to have always been there.  Looking at it one can’t imagine the world without it. 

… Poached carpet?  Do you mean like a poached egg?  A stream of bubbles stretching out.  I like a poached egg.

Tags: Ordinary