Soft and fluffy and welcoming worlds are available if you can be bothered

to go look for them. Lost souls spend all their time complaining about being

in a place “where messages refuse to send”. One often says something

that sounds more perceptive than it really is. A common failing of folk is to not

recognize the flaky nature of the position they think they occupy. The sector

of the probability landscape bounded by all other possibilities and which is

therefore understandably resigned to the idea of loss now has its own app.

Boys are dumping girls and girls are dumping boys every single minute of

the day in this world and the next. Endless love comes these days with a health

warning. Deckchairs are one of life’s many complicated facts and may cause

problems. “We call forth our own ends.” One sometimes senses a struggle for

stylistic autonomy within The Creator’s so-called range. Nearing the oceanside

it is sensible to admit there need not be much in the way of a flowing narrative

anywhere close by. One might rely on “mood” but “mood” is very unreliable.

Nobody on earth should eat a rabbit’s head but some people are tucking in to

rabbit heads. “Vegan Revitalizing Cream”, whatever that is, does not guarantee

the recovery of lost youth. One often hears other people claiming to have

experienced “the other”. Some things have to be believed to really be seen.

When asked to accept an alternative, think thrice, and consider carefully. The

collapsation of the partition between representation and the symbolic reminds

us how abstraction is. Hang around: something wonderful is sure to happen.





Martin Stannard


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