Building in real-time reality requires planning, resources, cooperation of elements and massive work.
Building in my mind takes barely an ounce of brainwaves.
Few risks in virtual chance taking/place making. When this train falls off the end of some track-line featherbeds will line valley floors for landing safe where I stride away, exploring jungles of stories from there …
Untrammeled fantasy exists.
Massive valleys, coulees, where ungulate playgrounds wrestle life’s reason season upon season until railroaders construct trestles – rift-bridging landscapes, exposing everyone to everything ever thought, every piece to every place ever traveled.
Seldom is heard a discouraging word …
Deer, antelope, and play.
How can reality exist, persist, resist and survive in my surreal fantasyland?
I dream three dimensionally.
I live in four – what is your fifth, my sixth – how can I measure anything or anyone anymore?
Or any less?
Thought trains need no fuel (caffeine perhaps), no boiler-men or brake-men, rolling though mountain passes, across massive plains, to undefined destinations – thought trains shards of brain (as if grey/pink matter could explode like glass) pierce and penetrate with the precision of acupuncture needles, subtlety of a side of beef. If you’ve been hit by one of these train there is little hope for you because you cannot be un-hit by any train however mind-constructed it might be there is no way to be spared the spectacle.
Tangents, brainy zany last – moments, months or millennia – drive us crazy, drive us to drink, to think, to inspire, to fire like rockets fizzling, or just like birthday-cake sparklers.
Thought trains leaving their stations.
No train wrecks, ever.
Who would want to control such crossings?
column written/ published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 1C/34F, cloudy, showers forecast – a band of sky let the horizon put on a glorious gold and magenta show from side to side as if the sky had no limits, imagination no boundaries and my life no limitations; Gusta, on the other hand, has continued short-walk limitations imposed by her sore-footed owner … but all these things, with a little time, will ease.