Title.

In a Nutshell.

What is the most insignificant thing in the world? Or have I got the question the wrong way around? Should it read, what is the least insignificant thing in the world. A speck of dust, maybe. But I can see that! And what if it made me sneeze, and I accidentally blew out the only candle in the darkness - when there were no more matches. That would be serious, really serious. Perhaps, it should be something I can't see? I don't know. How about something that happened in the past - in the far off past. But if it can be remembered, perhaps it isn't that insignificant, if you see what I mean. It could be, just could be, something far, far away, like a huge star. It might be huge where it is, but down here it might be just so insignificant that it might do. No. You remember that butterfly that flapped its wings, and caused a hurricane half way around the globe? No, I know you didn't, but you might have, had it happened. I know they said it might happen, theoretically happen, that's chaos for you. But is it? What is chaos? Chaos is... Chaos is... Chaos is when so much is happening so quickly at the same time - so much, so fast that no one can follow any of it. That's it. In a nutshell. And that's another candidate. A nutshell? Yeh. Why not? We discard nutshells, don't we? They're just so insignificant, aren't they? Not in India they don't. Coconuts are huge. Copra. The jute press. Don't complicate it. It can be anything I want! It's just the right thing. It's the way things are. Let's think about its properties, right.

I remember...

I remember the days of childhood - the days of certainty - the days before the broken door - the time, and the clock that stopped. At that moment, time began again. It wasn't the same time as before, and I hadn't changed, but there was something different about the relationship between myself, and everything else.

The Truth about the Hedge.

Out of the empty road has to come something - a voice. Where does it come from? Where does the road lead to? It is a narrow road lined with a hedge. There is a truth about the hedge. It is there, isn't it? There is a truth about gravity, but it's not worth fighting over.

If I Were You.

"If I were you," and with that said you know you are going to get some advice - whether you want it or not. You know someone has been thinking, not about themselves, but about someone else, and that someone else, is you. Now that can be flattering in a way, but it can also be unnerving. And to pity them for not having a life is not the answer. You know you have to sit there, and listen to someone, but then...

Were I a Box.

If I were a box, I would have no label, and be empty of things - just full of air, enigmatic air - you wouldn't know where I've been, or anything about me. Thin air is thin air. Colourless. I would bear no clues to who owns me. I might be ownerless, or lost; I might belong to, whoever lives here. Where is here? Here is here. Here is a party, a birthday party. People are emptying their glasses. There is music in the air. Guests are dancing. The hostess lifts my lid, expecting something. She asks, "What is it?"
"It's a box; it's a very nice box - to put something in." She puts me on the table with all the other presents; she leaves my lid off so everyone can peer inside me.

The Finite World.

If I were lying on the grass I might be thinking about how many grains of sand there are on all the beaches around all the continents. I might think there are less stars in the heavens, than there are grains of sand, but the universe is infinite, and the earth is finite. Who's counting? Finite is finite, and infinity is more.

Today 1.

Today I feel like I have to do something; what that something is, I don't know. Does anyone know, I wonder. My net curtains are drawn; the sun is shining through - it is a bright September day. It is 2003; it's been one of the hottest summers on record. But that is not getting me any closer to what I feel like doing. I will go out soon to the supermarket - I have to get something in for dinner. Dinners don't appear from nowhere! Food-wise I don't think a day in advance. Tomorrow is tomorrow, and the day after that is beyond my comprehension. Sure, I know it will be there, but I don't think about it. It's a frightening place, and I might not get there.

Today 2.

Today, I need inspiration; every day I need inspiration. I need to be self-motivated to build on that inspiration. I need a place to dwell, and work. I have such a place. It is small, and cramped, but I manage to paint more pictures, and to write. Think of something - time is running out. I need nothing more at the moment. Tomorrow might be different, but today? I am fine.

Today 3.

Today I want to create something, but I have to do my accounts, everything has to stay on hold until I break the back of them. What the hell, I want to have a break from such mundane matters. I want to think of something profound, but that doesn't pay the rent. I am here in my cramped little flat wondering what the hell I want. I want my accounts to be done, done, and over with. I want time to stay still while I do them. I want to do something. Something. Something. Anything, but my accounts. It is a sunny day, and all I can do is look at figures. Figures for the tax inspector. Who is my tax inspector. Someone in Wales. It's cheaper in Wales. People have to do something in Wales. Inspect taxes - that's what they do in Wales. I've been to Wales, I liked the scenery, but I don't particularly want to go right now to see it. Maybe next week, I don't know. Next week is next week. Today is today, and I don't know what I want to do today, all I know is that I don't want to do my accounts.