Monday, January 3, 2011

Day 100 From Algiers with Love

What am I without control? How do moments add up to life? Purpose. Purpose. Always searching for purpose. Any purpose will do. As long as I can cage it. Atomise it. Label it. Explain it. Because everything happens for a reason. So I’m always on the look out for the reason. Now. Immediate. Understand. Process. Make peace with. Change. Find myself in it. Relentless search for reason purpose end result. Understanding and changing. Almost obsessive. What if there was no purpose? What if there was no search? I will search the no-search. Find purpose in the no-purpose. Make a circle and measure whatever it is I can measure. What if there is no measure? No instruments? What if there are no alphanumeric measurements? Can it be? How can it be? My body – what does it hold? Relentless search. Outer measurements. Form. Body weight. Hair colour. Place of origin. Places of formation. Language. Languages. Parents. Heritage. Travel. Change. Pain. Disruption. Measurements. What if you’ve measured and you’ve measured. And you’ve come up with 165cm , translates into 5’4 maybe 5’3, 127lbs, 56kgs – give or take and right now I want to take, tricultural, trilingual, well-educated, good job in a bad economy, broken hearts, dreams chased, gut followed all over the world, co-habiting – not single, not married, no children – yet. Measurements – all true. Some have physical form. Some have memory – almost physical. Some joyful, some hurt. There’s a kid behind me kicking my seat. Measurement. Under. Inside. When the measurements stop. Not stop. Don’t serve. Because the search for measurements can go on. Even what you can eventually measure you can’t plan for. You can’t measure in advance. Holy shit. A beautiful, explosive, heart-opening realization. What emerges for you to measure if you need to, if you are so driven, is like magic – unpredictable, unknowable, uncontrollable, not yours, stunning, a mystery – immeasurable, even as you measure it.

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