“…If I cannot read,I cannot write.”
What was that supposed to mean?
I shall explain.
If one is not able read and so take in information,how can one use the imagination to it’s greatest use?
Therefore,how is it possible to write? Please do not get me wrong,I was not being literal,if information (in whatever form it comes in) comes to us,in a conversation ,for example,where is inspiration (in a true sense ,to be arrived at?) to come to us? Imagination is within us all,I grant you that,but inspiration of some form is needed to give us that spark to bring out the best in us all.
we are viewed by society with inverted commas. (a dialogue)
‘An odd title,may I ask why it is titled so?’
‘Of course you may,it was meant to highlight how little the populace in general are thought of by those in control.’
‘You mean of our lives?’
‘If you like,our government,country,ect.’
‘Why,and this may sound stupid,did you not answer in the plural?’
‘To make you think,which you did so.’
‘I don’t understand…’
‘Let me explain,you used your mind to think outside of the box,if you like,to come to a conclusion,using your own individuality.’
‘Are you saying that we should awaken to who we are,as individuals,and thus become who we are?’
‘I am saying exactly so,you are correct.’
‘That is very encouraging news,thankyou,my friend.’
‘You’re very welcome,my friend.’
[…A hand drew itself across the surface…]
…A hand drew across the surface…
…They awoke.Another repeated dream that never finished.
Back to work again.As they made their way there,the nights disturbance was forgotten.
…Much like this write…
The thought(or whatever you wish to call it) presented itself so clearly.” Are these unfinished ‘dreams’ to haunt me even in my waking life?”
They drank their first cup of coffee that day (they did not have time this morning,as they were running late.)
“How many more auditory ‘visitors’ will I experience this day ?
Am I going insane?”
…The knife ended it’s cut abruptly…
A thought came to him,at that very moment
“These passing thoughts never finish,or for that matter,they seem to be missing a form of connection,
can they be representatives of my life,which,thinking about it,is mundane and incomplete?”
I ‘read’ her words(or thought I did so),but mine mean nothing. I have no concept of how she truly feels.
I have no understanding;so by that line of thought,how can another say that they do so?
‘do i see a candelabra ‘afore my eyes?
is this light I perceive its ‘accomplise’ ?’
so many questions,for which i have no answer.