Devil in the Details
Posted on Jun 23rd, 2008
by 
T
T
Well, more blogging on life and death and stuff I suppose.............
'Coz the rest is just rusty nails and asthmatic snails. What I'm getting at here is my deep attachment, yes, call it addiction if you will- go on, pathologize it- I do- to the Big Picture. For me, the devil is indeed the details. Defiance of details soars above entrails- that's the theory, but ground and gravity will conspire. Oh yeah.
Those little bastards.
But, I should have gratitude that death and loss are gaining ground, always- because they're our friends, tracking us down like rabid dogs- if, by us, we mean basic, every day 'means well' vanity, scattered clusterfuckthoughts in candy colored clowns they call the sand-men.
Yeah, those guys. The ones yelling 'Me Me Me' at, uh, me. And I want them to stop!
But, they won't- and sooner or later love will warm them into lovely golden aromatic butter, Divine willing, and served up on buckwheat hotcakes with plenty of maple syrup. Until then, my fears of minutia pale and wither into even smaller minutia, which freak me out even more........
............But then, I remember that home is never far away, if you can feel the gentlest feeling you can let yourself feel, wanting all good things for you, always.
'Coz the rest is just rusty nails and asthmatic snails. What I'm getting at here is my deep attachment, yes, call it addiction if you will- go on, pathologize it- I do- to the Big Picture. For me, the devil is indeed the details. Defiance of details soars above entrails- that's the theory, but ground and gravity will conspire. Oh yeah.
Those little bastards.
But, I should have gratitude that death and loss are gaining ground, always- because they're our friends, tracking us down like rabid dogs- if, by us, we mean basic, every day 'means well' vanity, scattered clusterfuckthoughts in candy colored clowns they call the sand-men.
Yeah, those guys. The ones yelling 'Me Me Me' at, uh, me. And I want them to stop!
But, they won't- and sooner or later love will warm them into lovely golden aromatic butter, Divine willing, and served up on buckwheat hotcakes with plenty of maple syrup. Until then, my fears of minutia pale and wither into even smaller minutia, which freak me out even more........
............But then, I remember that home is never far away, if you can feel the gentlest feeling you can let yourself feel, wanting all good things for you, always.
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divine feminine
August 2008 