Something came up yesterday that I just knew was the next entry here. Involved with some other preoccupation at the time, I had no choice but to put off the noting of that brilliant moment.
And now as I sit before the screen to finally make record of it, whatever « it » was has escaped me.
What remains « present » is the « absence, » the « presence » of what-might-have-been-but-isn’t. I’m left with not knowing what’s « present » or what’s « absent » because they both are and are not.
Stop making sense, the Talking Heads song goes. I have another load of laundry to do.