Polish

The act of modeling time to a panel of judges consisting of feuding substances.

Chemistry on the black shoes of peer pressure; shoes mingled amongst the others walking off and on the subway. Sipping thorns down the wrong passageways, to choke on brier dreams planted in the sole of the passerby. But “I live here.”

***

I heard a noise this morning. A subtle noise that lingered on into real time. That is to say, it woke me up, yet was in my dream, and still yet, continued on as I awoke. This sound was merely a rumor, one presumably escaped form the lips of past sacrifices – survivors of the ancient ways. They carry promises of days to come, days that are to be unmatched in the books of history. They say we are to experience the greatest of pains to be witnessed by this world. They say that we shall be tested like no others before us. They say that we will fail.

I found such an awakening tedious, its message dull. A message thrown at us from a number of sources each and every day. One stumbles on it walking down the street; one sits in it while taking the bus; it is everywhere and in everyone. I’m sorry to disappoint, but you are not part of it. This time you rumor about, these whispers that fly from your lips and into your ears are nothing. They are your self importance held under a light.

Logic dictates that it be true. That these are the times of greatest peril, that we are those who feel the most pain. Yes, but it was never about quantity, rather quality. And if there is anything lacking in our time, it is quality. The quality of our pain is poor. It is a broken nail in comparison to the once mangled bodies. It is the bad-hair-day compared to a lifetime of blood. But there are still mines of proper pain, located in regions of the world that are “stuck in the past”. These mines, however, can never be properly mined, their resources can not be utilized, for they can be taken up and out only in abstracts. Thus we are without.

***

Chitchat echoing in the glimmer halls. The new museums and opera houses are radiating with foul stanch. Urine stains and clogged bathrooms discuss the daily news, reveling in the ringing of the cellphones – another obstacle overcome.

Jakob Lint