I tried to catch running water but all I got was this.
Catch
Category: view
Alan
All is one and one is all and moments live and die in the spark of continuous movement. But footprints leave behind stories of connections that live as long as they are still told.
Literal
Sometimes the picture does all the talking for you. It’s simply beautiful. Roots intertwined with rocks hovering over the water, reflections formed through the sun and shade, stillness and movement all rolled into one. Just look at it and enjoy it will arouse your eye.
Answer
If I write right on the left side on my leg does it make it wrong? If I sit and think of something that rings true to me, will my closest be gone? Is this pretty, is this right, is this the way or should I take flight? All the beauty in the world questioned with every word, descriptions and feelings flattened out to avoid the hardest curve.
So I sit and watch the stream and think of all things past, be kind to yourself and heed your voice and use the things you’ve learnt.
Think
‘You know what your problem is don’t you?’
‘What?’ Jay replied
‘Well you think you are original, but you’re not.’
Jay laughed, a smile growing on the left side of his face and his chest bouncing up and down.
‘Why thank you’ he mocked in a classic British accent. ‘It’s so reassuring to know that your best friends believe in you.’
‘Listen’ James replied ‘it’s not that your ideas are bad, in fact a few years ago I did think what you were talking about was a little niche, you know on the edge of fashionable, but it’s true that now people are asking for all that interactive content.’
Jay butted in ‘so I am original then.’
‘Wait let me finish, even though you thought about monetising it before anyone else, doesn’t mean it was original’
‘Before anyone else’ he teased ‘sounds like o…rig…in…al…’ he sounded out like a school child learning to read.
‘But it’s advertising that makes you think of an idea first. We own your mind without you even knowing it.’
‘What are you talking about, you don’t own my mind. 100% original my brain.’
‘That’s what I mean, you are not, we seed your ideas into you mind without you even knowing and then let you think you made them all up yourself.’
‘Shut up James’
‘No I’m serious, we are everywhere, on your phone, first thing you look at in the morning, on the radio, tv, breakfast cereal, newspaper…’
Jay interrupted, ‘no one buys a newspaper’
‘Whatever… we are everywhere, you can’t deny it.’
‘But it doesn’t effect me, I just ignore it’
‘No you rebel against it, which makes you think another way we want you to think. You know classic love it, hate it, still talk about it.’
Jay was quiet and the two gazed across the park from the bench.
‘So how do you have an original thought?’
James waited, then started to answer and stopped himself paused a little longer and answered. ‘Hmmm… dunno’
Trap
I always thought I knew myself and I understood what I thought was a way. Not necessarily the right way… but a way a could live with. A path that I could connect and commit to.
But she had a way that made me question my thoughts. There were times when she would call me out on what I was thinking, but I was never sure I was thinking it until she said it. Or was I? To be honest I think i was thinking of her reaction to what I know she was going to think, maybe making her think I was thinking the thing she didn’t want me to think. Ha! That’s a lot of thinking.
It’s like an advert for something on your social media platforms that appears and you are sure you only thought about it. Never spoke the words, never wrote the words, but there it was the spider ready to take your money… or your mind.
I understand that every ‘relationship’ changes you, you mould, your eyes see new perspective. But when you lose yourself. That can’t be right. Surely the words the thoughts should make you feel trapped.
People
She arrived expecting the worst. Expecting a melee of people surrounding the boat, demands, shouts, orders and offers. But as they neared the pier there was no one.
Something must have happened. Perhaps else where, perhaps downtown. Perhaps, oh, a thought suddenly jumped into Beth’s mind. What day was it? Maybe a holiday. The market day might have changed. Shit she thought to herself.
She cut the engine and drifted toward the docking bay. The fear of the crowds and demands turned into the need for people. How was she to sell if no one was there. The ice was already on the turn. Her stock wouldn’t last. Well at least the sun was shining.
Back to the Past
Money was coming into the town, which was good for the villagers, but meant that they had to put up with the habits of the newcomers, some of which were more tolerable than others. But there were some, who lived alone, that were still not accustomed to seeing new faces. They were known in the village as the mountain people for the obvious reason that they lived in small shacks high in the mountains. They farmed the land and kept livestock so the after affects of the blackout had had little effect on them.
The reliance on the blue vein had disabled many people’s ability to think for themselves but these people still had the old skills and their customs hadn’t changed for many years.
As the newcomers grew in numbers so did their interest in the wider countryside.
James stood in the cave that overlooked the valley his eyes fixated on the three men that were moving down the hillside, they slowly traversed down the earthy goat path making sure not to slip on the loose terrain. He had not seen any foreigners in a long time, but he didn’t want them to see him, so he picked up his satchel and made his way back to the hut.
Life From the Dirt 