Sep 2015
Sometimes...
I feel stuck. When I'm thinking I'm in the groove of a long-play record, spinning around and around, slowly moving towards the center, towards the end of a series of songs that must play out to be complete...it seems to be merely a rut; a perfect circle; a singular track that keeps me trapped where the beginning meets the end and the beginning of the end is ahead and behind but nowhere in sight.
But sometimes...
I see that the needle is merely skipping and just needs adjustment; the arm needs to be picked up and the needle set back into the spiral taking me ever closer to the end of the last song, to a completion of the story the songs in succession collectively tell.
All at 33 1/3 rpm.
I feel stuck. When I'm thinking I'm in the groove of a long-play record, spinning around and around, slowly moving towards the center, towards the end of a series of songs that must play out to be complete...it seems to be merely a rut; a perfect circle; a singular track that keeps me trapped where the beginning meets the end and the beginning of the end is ahead and behind but nowhere in sight.
But sometimes...
I see that the needle is merely skipping and just needs adjustment; the arm needs to be picked up and the needle set back into the spiral taking me ever closer to the end of the last song, to a completion of the story the songs in succession collectively tell.
All at 33 1/3 rpm.
