I’d call it ‘a few suggestive sentences’ in the way the past half hour’s been a mere thirty minutes.
You set a whole world into those sentences, Talik, credit and my commendations to yourself and to your thinking. Then as well I’ve an active imagination to fill out those sentences with my own mind. Fact is it took no thought at all, or not proper meditating though. Only hit automatic, the image and eh immediacy of what it’d be like, look and feel, and all my body set to fire. Wasn’t ever any hope against those sentences expanding to cataclysm, nor’d I wish on ounce of stifling on them.
Ey, between your imagination and mine, seems we’re a dangerous pairing c;
Won’t surprise you maybe that I hear your meaning on imagination’s utility, or that I’ve relied myself more than a little on its graces. Got my own habit of thinking ahead to what might be, and that’s saying as well I can vouch keeps what’s present and past from closing in too near, keeps suffocation a distance off.
Can’t say I’ve heard this about slipstream lit, or I mean I can’t say I’ve heard the term at all, but sounds the compelling sort of mindfuck and I’m game for hearing more. Game for anything comes through your speaking, very much including these visioned futures.
[ … ]
Here’s one from my end, might be said for making sure I grasp the basics, might also beside I speak it for the sake of joining you in this, and because I wish its speaking.
Say five years from now I can see myself living precisely where I am now, on my lonesome, not in misery nay, but every year’s a little less spark found to the world and there’s an absence at the centre bears no glimpsing.
And say five years from now I can see as well myself alive in New York, having made a home with my husbboyf [ … ] husband and the family that’s rightly called our own, and every day I look at you my smile gone daft in joy, and every day I tell you how my love is yours for always, as it’s been every day those five years so far known beside you. Every day I tell you anew I love you, aye, and every day I know the wonder of my Talik at my being’s centre.
Then in this second vision, there’s a hundred thousand visions for futures beyond, all built hand in hand with you, all expansive and gone bright, for I venture what we are and what we’ll be’s momentous.
[ … ]
Bears noting in both these visionings, Britain’ll have gone through a good seven more PMs and two further monarchs. Some things there’s no envisioning out of, not unless the fucked of this country fling themselves to the sea.
Well and anyrate. I know which vision I’d prefer. I know what speaks to me like life, and what to look for paths toward.
A truth of my being, I want my Talik, every way ‘want’ holds meaning.
Truth as well, I want you knowing joy in life, and knowing yourself loved, and worth every ounce of love exists to give.
I want you to be happy, can’t say that enough, nor speak properly the way it brings its own warmth flooding, the ways it sounds like the world set to rights.
1/3
You set a whole world into those sentences, Talik, credit and my commendations to yourself and to your thinking. Then as well I’ve an active imagination to fill out those sentences with my own mind. Fact is it took no thought at all, or not proper meditating though. Only hit automatic, the image and eh immediacy of what it’d be like, look and feel, and all my body set to fire. Wasn’t ever any hope against those sentences expanding to cataclysm, nor’d I wish on ounce of stifling on them.
Ey, between your imagination and mine, seems we’re a dangerous pairing c;
Won’t surprise you maybe that I hear your meaning on imagination’s utility, or that I’ve relied myself more than a little on its graces. Got my own habit of thinking ahead to what might be, and that’s saying as well I can vouch keeps what’s present and past from closing in too near, keeps suffocation a distance off.
Can’t say I’ve heard this about slipstream lit, or I mean I can’t say I’ve heard the term at all, but sounds the compelling sort of mindfuck and I’m game for hearing more. Game for anything comes through your speaking, very much including these visioned futures.
[ … ]
Here’s one from my end, might be said for making sure I grasp the basics, might also beside I speak it for the sake of joining you in this, and because I wish its speaking.
Say five years from now I can see myself living precisely where I am now, on my lonesome, not in misery nay, but every year’s a little less spark found to the world and there’s an absence at the centre bears no glimpsing.
And say five years from now I can see as well myself alive in New York, having made a home with my
husbboyf[ … ] husband and the family that’s rightly called our own, and every day I look at you my smile gone daft in joy, and every day I tell you how my love is yours for always, as it’s been every day those five years so far known beside you. Every day I tell you anew I love you, aye, and every day I know the wonder of my Talik at my being’s centre.Then in this second vision, there’s a hundred thousand visions for futures beyond, all built hand in hand with you, all expansive and gone bright, for I venture what we are and what we’ll be’s momentous.
[ … ]
Bears noting in both these visionings, Britain’ll have gone through a good seven more PMs and two further monarchs. Some things there’s no envisioning out of, not unless the fucked of this country fling themselves to the sea.
Well and anyrate. I know which vision I’d prefer. I know what speaks to me like life, and what to look for paths toward.
A truth of my being, I want my Talik, every way ‘want’ holds meaning.
Truth as well, I want you knowing joy in life, and knowing yourself loved, and worth every ounce of love exists to give.
I want you to be happy, can’t say that enough, nor speak properly the way it brings its own warmth flooding, the ways it sounds like the world set to rights.