WALKING + chance
So again its just the two of us. The screen and me. But theres something different. Theres a tension breathing within time. Theres a tension that wants to explode. Like being on the verge of opening an exploding can. We know deep inside, that it will explode, we cower in fear but yet the hands linger in time and finish what they started. Oh hands as faithful as ever to chaos.
Theres tension. Theres vibration. A low organ Dm fills your stroll. Now your head has its own soundtrack. Theres a song that you wish was there for others to hear, but you smile to yourself and sing it with detail in your head. You walk. You hear the crunching of minimal pebbles under your rubber sole. The crunching of minimal worries under your robber soul. There’s a tendency. Keep walking. Go wherever your feet take you. Is that where the tension lives? no, my friend. The tension lies in the idea of getting somewhere you will eventually want to stop walking. When you get there, will you stay? will you settle? will you risk a second search party? That is where the real tension comes to bask.
Its always down to a choice, a disjunctive, a sensation of division. You divide your conscience between two probable branching futures. Where will the leaves be? Where were they before you took the decision? Probably dreams are the conscience’s trips to other places of your probable futures and pasts. Probably they are as real as what you see now. Maybe now you’re caught in the dream of a probable future of someone else. Maybe your existence is an alternate route that a random conscience took into the open with no movement but a slide in conscience. We are the dreams of the dying probability. We are the entities of chaos. We are the children of the sun-less morning. We are afraid and filled with doubts, we are naive, but we keep on walking.