This came directly after, logically and logistically, the prior piece. "Illusory aria" of course referring to those songs I'm always trying to hear and always end up hearing so much of.
It's the realization of how much fantasy has entered my worldview and my relationships with people. I'm indulging whims of "what could have been, alas," imagining ways that I might ways that some part of my imagination might be validated.
I was left at the table unheeded. That part's usually true.
But perhaps, now, finally, now, my only constant has been defenestrated.
Why is it that these pieces sometimes make only too much sense after I write down their meaning?
YOU ARE READING
For Posterity: Fundamentals
RandomStupid and weird as it sounds, I forget the meaning in my pieces more often than not, and have to halfheartedly "decide" on a new one until I can remember the original intention - which, of course, can inflate or devalue said original intention and...
