At the end of the world

by practicalspactical

With the guitar in my hand, acoustic, but harmonic, I am elsewhere – the chords exist in time but outside it, since the chords are eternal, like a priori forms, they are structures, relationships, algorithms, programs, to be summoned at will by Us, the Great Minds, when we will.

In their timelessness, my soul moves, and I am elsewhere, at the top of the world, at the end of the world, wearing this body still, dancing with you, singing with you, even as I don’t know who you are –

Sad songs. Happy one. Lonely. Lonely today. Simply alone tomorrow. Sometime else, maybe I won’t be.