Finally!! It's taken me ages to sign in. Could this be blogger telling me something?? Anyway, rather than prattling on about nothing in particular I've decided to share the wonderful words of Psychedelic Lee. It is as yet untitled but I think it's from a collection which he calls Fragments of Life.


Grief overwhelms the writer when he sits down to write about what is meaningful to his living present, for he can only ever write about the past and, even then, only by avoiding what really matters. He provides the reader with a few clues whereby they can fill in the gaps and feel, if not understand, what really mattered. So instead songs are written, which are always about the present, that will never be heard by those who matter, even if listened to. But even songs move into the past and lose their meaning, or rather what they mean changes, as what is lost is necessarily replaced with something different, a happy forgetfulness. Only then can the writer sit down and write, and leave the reader to decide what matters, and as long as it retains ambiguity the text can forever live and capture a fragment of life.


Now, if you feel slightly confused after reading this the reason is most probably because it was written at 4 O'Clock in the morning after much rum and whiskey. But also, if you feel slightly confused after reading this, then I think it's purpose has been served. For anyone who is interested in Philosophy, I'll be putting a link to more of Psychedelic's writing very soon.